


Half Past The Point Of Oblivion

by OMOWatcher, SebastianFloofyHair



Series: The Deadliest Sin [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Real Person Fiction, Romanian Actor RPF, Sebastian Stan - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Begging To Come, Chair Sex, Crying, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluffy Ending, Friends to Lovers, Introspection, Jealousy, Light Dom/sub, Like super light, Missed Opportunities, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Queerplatonic Relationships, Sebastian's Filthy Fucking Mouth, Smut, Sub Sebastian, Voyeurism (sort of), barely even there, confused feelings, good food, masturbation (mentioned), therapy sessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-18 02:08:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11281551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OMOWatcher/pseuds/OMOWatcher, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SebastianFloofyHair/pseuds/SebastianFloofyHair
Summary: As soon as they were both through the doorway, he kicked the door shut behind them with the heel of his boot. His coat dropped by his feet and he pressed himself back into the smooth wood, his palms flat against the panel beside his thighs.“I need you to tell me if you don’t want this,” he said, his voice gravelly, “because if I come over there now...” He trailed off, absently licking his lips as he slowly and deliberately dragged his gaze from her face, down to her feet and back up.She licked her lips. “Lock the door,” she replied, swallowing the breathy rasp in her voice.Following on from the sudden, whirlwind shift in their relationship, Sebastian and Tara try to navigate their way through the mess of feelings. Who will her heart choose, though - Sebastian or Chris?Part of "The Deadliest Sin" series. Now with added co-writer!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's been FOREVER since I posted the last part, and I hope that people are still interested to see this continue.
> 
> Since I wrote "Half Past The Point Of No Return", I have begun collaborating with the creator of Tara, [SebastianFloofyHair](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SebastianFloofyHair) on furthering this series and it has taken on a life of its own. Currently we have MASSES of fic written, I just need to get around to editing and posting it all, but I'm making a start on it with this part. It's completed and ready to go, I'm only separating it into chapters because it's over 21.5K words! I will get them posted every couple of days, though, I hope.  
>  
> 
> **Disclaimer:**
> 
> We don't know the actual, real Sebastian Stan (or Chris Evans). This is just a facsimile of him and both he and the story bear no relation to reality. Any similarities in the scenario to Real Life™ are just coincidence. We intend no harm or upset to Sebastian, or his family and friends. Everything is completely made up from the depraved depths of our brains and Tara belongs to SebastianFloofyHair.

Sebastian retreated into the room that was nominally his, pulling the door closed behind him. With an exhausted moan, he dropped face first over the bed and shut his eyes, pressing his face into the comforter with a heavy sigh. _What the hell I am doing_? he thought to himself, his mind running over the last few hours, and his stomach knotted unpleasantly. He sighed again before rolling onto his back. After their bath, they’d dressed and returned to the kitchen, shared a coffee and Tara had left for the cafe, saying she needed to finish some work. For a while, he’d tried to distract himself on his iPad, but the longer he’d sat in Tara’s living room alone, the stronger the ball of anxiety in his chest became. He’d worried about the situation, the argument that preceded it and the discussions that came afterwards.

He reached for his phone, still charging on the bedside table, and detached it from the cable. Sweeping aside the notifications, he unlocked the screen, and without even opening the contacts, held down the number four button on the dialler. If the world only knew; Nickelback might have drug dealers on speed dial, Sebastian had a therapist instead. He hit the speaker icon, setting the phone next to him and listened to the ring, waiting for the the call to connect. After five rings, halfway through the sixth, the phone was picked up, and simply hearing the familiar voice greeting him by name, a degree of the anxiety crawling in his guts eased away.

“Hello Sebastian. I wasn’t expecting a call from you today.”

Gretchen was well-spoken, a transplant from the south of England. Absent-minded about everything except for her patients and her cats - who lived like royalty - she carried an air of sixties hippy around her despite only being perhaps a decade older than Sebastian himself. She spoke in a low, soothing voice, even when she was passionate about a subject, and she was unerringly perceptive, at least when it came to his thought processes. Even now, just hearing her voice, Sebastian could picture her; wavy blonde hair cut into a short bob, curious hazel eyes and delicate features, with Heathcliff, her chocolate Ragdoll, in her lap, leaving long hairs over her bohemian skirt and batting a paw at the strings of her tunic top.

“I screwed up,” He sighed heavily. “Badly.”

“Well that is certainly no way to start off a Saturday morning.” Gretchen paused. “Go on.”

“I’m... I’m not even sure where to start.” he admitted. “I think I may just have ruined everything with Tara.” He swallowed. He was _not_ going to start bawling again.

“First, I just want you to take a breath. And when you’re ready, tell me what happened, if you can,” she told him, and he dragged in a deep breath through his nose, held it for a few seconds, before blowing the air out through his pursed lips, and closed his eyes. His nerves felt like they were rattling.

“I...” The words caught in his throat and he coughed, cleared the ball of emotion threatening to burst free. He tried again. “I slept with her. We had sex,” he clarified. They’d slept together more times than he cared to count in the past, if he was being literal. He’d hoped that telling someone would help the unease curled inside his chest; if anything, it enhanced it, as he waited for the judgement he feared was coming.

“So you had sex with Tara... and it ended badly?” Gretchen, as always, spoke softly and dispassionately, though warmth lay beneath the clinical exterior.

“No... I mean, yes... I... we had sex... I... don’t know if it ended badly...” He huffed out a breath, frustrated, and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what the hell to think right now.”

“Alright... just keep going with the breathing, Sebastian.” she reminded him. Sometimes, Sebastian felt sure that half of their sessions involved her telling him to control his air intake. “We can work through this... perhaps to understand some motivation? To find some perspective... I think that’s what you’re looking for, am I right?”

Sebastian nodded and rolled his eyes at himself as he remembered where he was. “Yeah. Perspective would be a good start, yes,” he agreed. He drew in another breath, trying to stretch the tightness from his chest. “I think I’m in love with her.” The admission surprised even him, and he let out a damp laugh of disbelief. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

She chuckled. “Perhaps not, but you obviously mean it.”

“Yeah...” he said quietly. “I really do.” His eyes burned and he scrunched up his face in an attempt to keep them dry. “I don’t even know where this came from. It feels like it just appeared out of nowhere, but at the same time, it’s like...” he paused gesturing absently as he pondered his next words. “It’s like this was how it was always meant to be. But I’m me. And I’m a fuckin’ disaster at this sort of thing and I’m just going to end up hurting her... If she even wants me, that is.”

There was rustling at the end of the phone, followed by a small meow, and Sebastian shook his head minutely, huffing a silent chuckle before Gretchen responded. “I obviously can’t speak to her feelings, but it seems that having sex with Tara has... in a way.. .clarified your feelings for her?”

His heart thudded painfully in his chest. “It... it wasn’t just that. I... She... Ugh!” he made a sound of annoyance.

_Can’t really avoid it_.

“She was with someone else last night,” he admitted, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He stayed over. They... well, you can imagine. I didn’t think it’d be a problem... it's not the first time either of us has brought someone back, you know? But this time it was...” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “It makes me so jealous and I’m... that’s not me. Not with Tara. I don’t know. Maybe it _is_ me. Maybe I’m just kidding myself here. And I’m pretty sure that when it comes down to it, she’ll choose him, because she’s had a thing for him for the longest time and...” He bit his tongue. He was babbling and the anxiety was coiling up in his chest again.

“Sebastian, breathe for me,” she said. “Let’s go through one thing at a time, okay?”

He frowned, concentrated on the air filling his lungs. Finally, he exhaled shakily and spoke. “Okay...”

“Tara had someone over and you were jealous of him. Because she was paying attention to him, or was it just the sex do you think?” Gretchen asked and Sebastian frowned, the crease deepening between his eyes.

“I... both. At least a little. We weren’t exactly... thinking clearly last night. And Tara didn’t invite him. I did, which, was another screw up... it was meant to be the night we did the Christmas tree, like we do every year, and I forgot.” He stopped, before he began using that to further his emotional self-flagellation. “It’s like... we’re good friends but I always end up feelin’ like... I dunno. Not quite up to scratch next to him.”

“I see. I don’t suppose this is someone we’ve talked about before... in your professional life? And now he’s moving into a space in your personal life. What emotions does that stir up for you?” she asked.

“Aside from jealousy?” He snorted humorlessly.

_Should’ve known you’d never sneak that past her._

“If it’d been anyone else, things would have just gone on like normal. He... yes, okay. _Chris_ just seems to bring out... I don’t know. And this is why I’m afraid I’ve messed this all up. Because if it’d been anyone else I’d have just pushed everything aside and carried on like usual...” Sebastian rubbed his neck, the ache from sleeping awkwardly reappearing with the tension of the day. “I don’t even know right now.”

There was a short pause before Gretchen spoke again. “I have to ask if that’s something you’re certain about. Would it have bothered you, seeing her with someone, if it wasn’t Chris?”

“No,” he answered immediately, then he stopped, reconsidering. “Okay... that’s not actually true. That’s what I’ve been telling myself every time it happens, whenever she’s with someone, because that’s the right answer, because she’s my friend, because I want her to be happy. And if she’d ever wanted me, I always figured she’d have said so, you know?”

“I can’t say,” Gretchen responded. “You know her. You’ve known her for most of your adult life, you’ve told me. So do you think she would tell you if she had those feelings for you?”

“Well, I know _now_ that she wouldn’t. She thought I wouldn’t find her attractive... That she wasn’t thin enough, pretty enough. I have a type, apparently, and it’s not her.” He couldn’t help the note of bitterness that snuck into his words, even though he immediately felt petty and childish. “It’s not even that I look for that. But with work, with the travelling, it’s almost impossible to find someone who’d get the pitfalls that come with the relationship, who can deal with that, if they’re not part of that world too. So, with the way society is about appearance, particularly in this field, it limits the options.” He paused. “It really hurt. To think she might think I was that shallow.”

“Perhaps she didn’t see it as shallow so much as a preference? It could be that, given your previous relationships, she based an opinion on whether or not they were similar in some way and came to the conclusion that they were unlike her.” Sebastian knew that Gretchen was being reasonable, but it still grated. Before he could respond though, she continued. “But regardless of that, it seems that the two of you talked?”

“Yeah we talked. A little. Actually, mostly I talked and she listened. M’pretty sure I scared her off by the time we’d finished. Humiliated myself by crying like a baby after we... well, afterwards...” He clenched his jaw, blinking back fresh tears that threatened.

“Alright, well... I think the first step in achieving perspective is understanding your motivation and you’ve done that. You felt motivated by jealousy. So you acted and now the consequence is that you feel you may have done harm to your relationship with Tara,” Gretchen summarised. “But what do you want from this? What is the outcome that you hoped for, or that you still hope for?”

“I want... I need her in my life. I think... I’m pretty sure I want to be with her.” He paused, thinking. “I want her to feel the way I do when she tells me that everything is going to be alright and just for a moment, I actually believe that. I want to be that for her,” He swiped at his eyes with the heels of his hands, sighing harshly when they came away damp. “I want to know that I’m not just sabotaging the one good relationship in my life by thinking with my dick, and I don’t. I don’t trust my own feelings right n-”

He stopped talking abruptly, his phone beeping. He glanced at the screen and laughed wryly. “Speak of the devil... That’s her... I should...”

“You should talk to her, yes. I have a client soon, but if you need to call, try me after three. And Sebastian? Remember to breathe.”

He huffed out a small laugh. “Okay. I’ll set a reminder on my phone. At least one breath a minute. Thank you, Gretchen...”

“Of course. Good luck,” she told him.

“Think I need it. Bye.” He ended the call and hit the green phone icon, hoping Tara hadn’t hung up already. “Hey...” His voice was tight, and his palms itched with the desire to wipe them against his thighs. “How’s it goin’?”

“Good. Great... well, slow. It’s slow.” Her voice sounded light. Happy. “How are you? Did you eat? I was gonna see if you wanted to come have lunch.”

“I... yeah, I could do lunch. I should probably change though. I’m pretty sure these pants have a hole in...” He swallowed, his throat aching. “Does coffee count as eating?”

“No!” She laughed. “It does not. So change your pants and come eat.”

“Yes, ma’am!” he answered, his lips twitching. Had she been in front of him, he’d have saluted, just to watch her face light up at his silliness. “Gimme twenty minutes and I’ll be there.”

“Okay babe. See ya in twenty.” She giggled, then the line clicked off.

Sebastian stared at the phone, at the contact picture for her that was still on the screen and smiled, before pushing himself up. He quickly found a pair of jeans and sweater more appropriate for the New England weather, pulled on his boots and left, locking up behind himself. By the time he’d managed to park his rental and made his way across the ice-slick street, he was a few minutes late. He pushed opened the front door of Sully’s and was hit by a rush of warm air and mouthwatering scents. His stomach rumbled.

Tara slid off her stool from behind the coffee counter, pulling off the black apron tied around her waist. She smiled to see him, her heart hammering in her chest. She’d been worried about how they’d left things. Even though they’d seemed fine at the time, she knew that sometimes Sebastian could get caught up in his head. Whether or not she was sure about what had happened, what was _happening_ , she wanted him to be okay.

_Needed_ him to be okay.

She walked around the corner of the counter and up to the hostess stand, waiting on him to walk further into the café. “You’re late,” she said when he was close enough. “Thought I might have to give away your lunch.”

He raised his eyebrows, his mouth forming a shocked O. “You wouldn’t!” he gasped, his gloved hand coming up to cover his heart, before breaking into a grin and giggling. “Sorry, about that, apparently there are other people out there who also want to park.” He reached up and pulled off his gloves, loosening the scarf bundled around his neck. “So...” he looked around. “Think you can squeeze me in somewhere?”

She grinned. “I think I know exactly where to put you. Come on,” she turned, walking further into the restaurant, past the tables and through the large archway at the back.

Sebastian followed behind, trying to resist the urge to let his eyes linger on her legs, thick black tights clinging to their curves over knee high boots. He forced his gaze higher, deliberately avoiding the curve of her ass visible beneath her tunic. If he stopped to think about that, he’d very possibly make a spectacle of himself. The loose gathers of rose gold cotton had slipped from her left shoulder, and he bit the inside of his cheek rather than step forward and open his lips over the exposed skin. Her throat had looked flawless a moment ago, but he knew precisely where the marks from earlier lay hidden under a careful application of concealer, and he ached to press his thumb to them, remind her of what she couldn’t hide. He shook his head. This was crazy. Right now, he didn’t even know if she would want him again.

As they wandered past the last of the tables, he frowned a little, wondering where exactly she was taking him. They reached the archway between the cafe and the bookstore, and he paused.

“Uh... babe? I thought you were feedin’ me, not readin’ to me,” he said, eyebrow quirked up.

Tara giggled and looked back over her shoulder, drifting her gaze up his face until her blue eyes met his. She reached back and took his hand in hers, giving him a coy smile. “Don’t you trust me?”

Sebastian’s heart flipped, his tongue sneaking out to wet his bottom lip. His eyes dropped to her mouth for a second, then returned to meet hers again. “Depends... is there food involved?” he joked, attempted to ward off the curl of pleasure in his belly at her expression.

Tara squeezed his hand and pulled him through the archway into the bookstore. Unlike the café, the bookstore was quiet and nearly deserted. Except for a lone cashier who looked up from his book and smiled when they walked in, the back of the store was empty. At the front by the windows, there were two women on one of the green velvet couches, both engrossed in whatever they were reading.

Tara pulled him through the shop, weaving around the shelves into the back corner where, essentially, they were isolated and alone. Here there were tables with comfortable wing-back chairs for shoppers to read and sip tea or coffee. One had been set up for lunch.

She grinned at him, nodding toward one of the chairs. “See. No trickery.” She shrugged, releasing his hand somewhat reluctantly. “I just wanted to keep you to myself.”

He darted his hand forward as her fingers slipped from his, catching them and squeezing them again. She looked at him, her lips opening in slight surprise before she smiled.

“Thank you... for calling. For inviting me.” His voice was soft, matching his eyes. Keeping his stare locked on hers, he raised her hand, brushed his lips over her knuckles like the kiss of butterfly wings, before loosening his hold.

Tara lowered her eyes, her cheeks flushing pink just as he let her go. “Of course,” she answered softly.

He pulled out the chair, slid into it and tucked his legs under the table, resting his elbows on the table and folding one hand over the other, almost as though in prayer. He tilted his head to the side, glancing between her and the other chair curiously.

She took the seat next to him instead of the one across, picking up the wrapped cutlery and pulling it loose. She draped the napkin over her lap. “I didn’t eat either,” she confessed, giving him a sheepish grin. “So, I’m kinda starving after...” She blushed again and laughed under her breath, shaking her head. “It was a busy morning.”

He coughed, halfway between a chuckle and a groan of embarrassment, his own cheeks colouring to match hers. “Uh, yeah...” he smiled crookedly, as he shrugged out of his coat. “Yeah, it was definitely... busy.” He looked up at her through his eyelashes. “But good,” he added, glancing away and occupying himself with the napkin for a moment. “So... What’re we eating, seeing as we both need sustenance after our busy start to the day?”  
  
“It _was_ good,” she said, feeling anxious to reassure him, then leaned forward. She carefully avoided looking at him, picking up a jug of water to pour some into his glass. “So... I called in a favor and got us something special.”

About that time a server rounded the corner, a tray of food in hand. Each plate held a large buttery lobster roll and a tin bucket of sweet potato fries. Sebastian sat back, making space. His mouth watered furiously at the rich scent of seafood and garlic rising on the steam from the meals.

When the server set the plate in front of her, Tara’s lips curved into a broad grin and she looked up at the petite brunette who’d brought the food. “Thanks Kara. I really appreciate you bringin’ this out here.”

“No problem, Miss Tara, I don’t mind at all.” She smiled over at Sebastian and slid his plate in front of him. “Can I get you both anything to drink, other than water?”

Tara lifted her brows, looking at Sebastian. “I’m good. What about you, babe?”

He smiled up at Kara. “Thank you, I’m fine. This looks incredible though!”

“Well, enjoy!” Kara grinned and headed off back to the café.

He looked at Tara. “Lemme guess, you twisted Charlie’s arm, right?” He grinned, grabbing a few fries and popping them into his mouth. His eyes fluttered shut as he chewed, moaning quietly. “Oh, that’s nice...” He picked up his knife, deftly cut the roll into manageable segments, and lifted the first one.

“Yep, she was thankfully in the area.” Tara smiled. “And had exactly what I needed to make this.”

“God bless Charlie, then,” he said happily.

His eyes rolled shut at the first bite, the sweet, ocean tang of the lobster exploding across his tongue, the rich, buttery dressing coating his mouth and the sharp crunch of the lettuce a perfect complement to the soft, perfectly toasted roll. He thought he might have whimpered a little, but the combination was so perfect, he simply took another bite. Only when he opened his eyes, sucking a drip of dressing thinned with the lobster juice from his thumb and reaching for the fries did he realise that Tara wasn’t eating. She was watching him. He paused, his hand hovering over the fries. “What?” he asked, puzzled. “Have I got it all over my face already?”

“No, not really, just...” Tara reached over, biting her lip as she thumbed a bit of dressing from the corner of his mouth. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

He caught her wrist, his tongue swiping out to lick the mayo from her thumb and Tara couldn’t hold back the whimper that sounded in her throat. Sebastian’s pupils flared, arousal trickling low in his belly. Despite the raging shout from his stomach, it took all of his willpower not to part his lips around her thumb and suck it into his mouth. Jesus, he felt like a kid in a candy store around her right now, at every turn finding something else to tempt him. He mentally shook himself, his fingers tightening against her skin affectionately for a second, before letting her hand drop and busying himself with the fries.

“Enjoying is not a strong enough word to describe how good this is,” he replied, taking another bite. “Go on, try it!” he urged.

The flush on Tara’s cheeks had spread lower, colouring her throat and chest, and the steady pace of her breath shortened. She closed her eyes for a moment, her fingers closing around the knife after she’d willed herself to calm down. She wondered if he knew, if he was doing it on purpose, all the little things that were making her crazy...making it hard for her to even think straight.

She cut into the sandwich, pulling off a third of it before she set the knife aside. A piece of lobster slipped from the roll and she picked it up with her fingers, bringing it up to her lips. She placed the piece on her tongue and closed her mouth, sighing slowly at the decadence of it. Charlie, and her gourmet connections, were indeed a blessing from God. She smiled at Sebastian as she chewed, the lobster practically melting in her mouth. After she’d swallowed, she took a sip of water. “It _is_ delicious.” She looked down at the piece of roll in her hand, studying it for a second. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I could eat this every day.”

He laughed quietly. “Yeah... I might join you.”

They finished eating in a comfortable silence on the whole, occasionally catching each other’s eyes and smiling shyly. Sebastian kept his eyes on his plate for the most part. Every time he'd glanced up, she was either licking dressing from her lips or sucking the garlicky salt from her fingers and heat had flashed into his belly, pooling and gathering as his already slim fitting jeans became incrementally more restrictive. By the time he’d taken the last bite, he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to stand up any time soon without everyone becoming aware of his current predicament. Instead, he lifted the napkin to wipe the last smears of butter from his lips before dropping it onto this empty plate and resting back in the chair.

“That was incredible. Remind me to thank Charlie next time I see her,” he said, rubbing his hand over his stomach.

Tara nodded, polishing off the last of her fries before she responded. “I will. She’s in town for the holidays, so...” She looked over at Sebastian and smiled, her heart warming at the contented look on his face. “Maybe she can hook us up with more lobster again before she leaves.” She wiped her hands on the napkin in her lap, smoothing it over her thighs. “Though, you really should be thanking _me_ for the cooking. Those sandwiches didn’t make themselves you know.” She quirked an eyebrow as she glanced at him.

“Gee, and here I thought they came out of the sea like that,” he told her, biting back a smirk. His eyes scanned her face as he rolled his bottom lip between his teeth, the flesh still pinker than normal from that morning. Leaning across to her, he curled his nearest arm around her waist, the other hand catching the side of her neck and he tipped her head into him as he brushed a kiss across her cheek, barely catching the corner of her mouth.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice husky and his breath warm against her ear. It made her shiver, her eyes fluttering closed as she sucked in a breath, holding it as he spoke. “For everything. The food. Putting up with me. This morning...” he trailed off, his breath hitching and backed up a little. He shifted in his seat, his jeans uncomfortably tight.

Tara let out a shaky breath, opening her eyes to look at him. She fixed her gaze on his face, on the crystal blue-grey of his eyes, the curve of his lips, the dark stubble covering the sharp angles of his jaw. She squeezed her thighs tighter together, remembering that morning and the way his face had felt between her legs, how that stubble had burned her skin as his tongue had tortured her almost endlessly. She wanted to force herself to look away from him, but she couldn’t. “Sebastian...” She licked her lips, her eyes drifting to his mouth. Even just the thought of kissing him... Her voice slid into a breathless whisper. “What did you do to me?”

A shiver rushed along his spine. “Me?” he asked, incredulously, reaching out and settling his hand over hers, their fingers interlinked. He turned his head, surveying the room, and his voice dropped until it was barely audible. “I can’t even watch you _eat_ now. What’d you do to _me_?” With another quick check around them, he pulled her hand towards him, settled it high on the crease of this thigh. His eyes locked with hers, Tara’s mouth falling open as he dragged her hand to settle against the tight stretch of his zipper over his erection. “Shit, babe, I can’t even...” He groaned quietly, throbbing under her hand as she kneaded the straining bulge with her palm, her fingers slipping lower to cup the heaviness of his balls where they were constrained in his jeans. His eyes closed, his expression almost pained and he pressed his hand over hers, stilling her movement.

“Fuck, Tara, please... There’re people here...” he warned, even as he twitched under her palm.

She kept her hand still but firm over the curve of his confined cock and leaned over, her lips lightly brushing his ear as she whispered. “I want you inside me. Now.” She whimpered, nuzzling the curve of his earlobe. “I don’t wanna wait.”

His eyes rolled back in his head, his breath rushing out of his lungs and his fingers spasming over her hand, as his lips parted on a silent moan. When his eyelids eventually lifted, heavy and lust filled, his eyes were almost black. “Get us out of here,” he gritted out. “Now. Before I bend you over this table and take you right this second, and fuck what the customers think.”

Tara pulled back to look at his face and slowly withdrew her hand. She let her eyes linger on his mouth and nodded. “We can go to my office upstairs.” She pushed back her chair and stood, pulling the napkin from her lap and dropping it onto the table. He pressed the heel of his hand against himself, attempting to make the line of his erection less obvious, and levered himself out of the chair. A quick glance down, though, and it was clear that anyone who looked at him would know.

“Just don’t get too far ahead of me,” he muttered quietly, his fingers closing around his jacket and folding it over his arm in an attempt to disguise his blatant arousal, “or your customers are gonna get an eyeful.”

Tara giggled, reaching her hand back for his. “Stay close, then.” She took his hand, twining her fingers through his, and led him back through the bookstore. The spiral staircase that led to the second level was just inside the archway on the café side.

Tara gave a nod to the cashier as they passed by, pressing her lips together to avoid chuckling with giddiness. Thankfully, they made it to the stairs with no interference. Sebastian’s fingers itched to reach out and trail over her thighs as he followed her up and he bit his cheek at the ache already developing in his groin. They made it to the top of the stairs and she tugged Sebastian down the short hallway to her office.

As soon as they were both through the doorway, he kicked the door shut behind them with the heel of his boot. His coat dropped by his feet and he pressed himself back into the smooth wood, his palms flat against the panel beside his thighs. Tara walked into the office, stopped in the middle in front of the trestle desk, her chest heaving as she struggled to contain her breath. He stared at her, his eyes hooded and the corner of his mouth caught between his teeth.

“I need you to tell me if you don’t want this,” he said, his voice gravelly, “because if I come over there now...” He trailed off, absently licking his lips as he slowly and deliberately dragged his gaze from her face, down to her feet and back up.

She kept her eyes on his his, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth. The look he was giving her made her stomach drop, her already-soaked cunt clench and ache. She licked her lips. “Lock the door,” she replied, swallowing the breathy rasp in her voice.


	2. Chapter 2

Sebastian’s breath stuttered as Tara’s expression wreaked havoc on his self control, and he fumbled blindly for the bolt, fingers clumsy as he finally slid it home to shut out the rest of the world. His awareness narrowed, until all he could see, feel, think, was her. He swallowed, stepped towards her, until he could set his hands on the curve of her hips.

“I think...” he paused, pulling her closer to him, until they were a hair’s breadth apart, “I think that if I do what I want to do right now, your desk might not survive.” His lips curved into a suggestive smirk, and he caged her body between his arms, his palms planted on the table top before he shoved down, testing.

Tara’s breath hitched, the heat of him so close, the smell of his cologne and the soft scent of her own body wash on his skin making her light-headed. “What do you want to do to me?”

His smirk widened, his eyes crinkling, as he sucked his lower lip into his mouth and watched her expression shift. “Well...” He leant closer, his lips hovering a fraction over hers. “I would really... _really_ like to sweep all of this off,” He gestured at the items covering the desk. “push you back onto it, slide myself all the way into your incredible pussy and fuck you so hard they can hear us in the street.”

She whimpered, her eyelashes fluttering, and her breath shuddered out of her at his words.

“However...” He took her wrists, walked them both around the edge of the desk, until they stood between it and her chair. “I think this’ll work,” he said. He released her arms, his hands curving around the back of her legs and the tips of his fingers grazing the inside of her thighs. Tara’s eyes closed and she flattened her hands against his chest, feeling the racing of his heart under her fingers. His lips parted, just a fraction, breathing faster as his palms slid up, over her buttocks. The sound she made was half-whine and half-sob, the round curves of her ass still red, still hot, and his touch only inflamed them more.

A groan rumbled in his chest at her reaction, goosebumps rising on his arms as memories of her across his lap earlier flashed in his mind, and he tucked his fingers into the waistband of her tights.

“Sebastian,” she murmured, lifting her eyes to his face as she slid her hands up to his neck. “Kiss me?”

His eyes closed for a moment, his heart thudded painfully and he tamped down the surge of his emotions. He met her gaze and his hands lifted to cup her jaw, his thumbs stroking over the apple of her cheeks. She smiled a little, her eyes searching his before he tilted her head and brushed his lips over hers, his eyelashes drifting closed as he deepened the kiss. The tip of his tongue traced the seam of her mouth, delving inside as her lips parted underneath his, licking and tasting, sweeping over the roof of her mouth to match her own exploration.

Tara made a soft, hungry sound, her breath puffing hot into his mouth and Sebastian exhaled hard through his nose, one hand sliding back into the messy braid encircling her head, blunt nails scratching at her scalp, as the other tightened around her jaw, holding her close and pouring himself into the embrace.

She moaned, pulling herself closer to him, one hand curving behind his neck. Her nails pricked at his skin and she sucked and nipped at his tongue, then tugged his bottom lip with her teeth before fastening her lips back onto his. A groan spilled from him at the sharp pull of her teeth and his fingers closed around the silky strands of her her hair, tugging her head back a fraction so he could crush his mouth harder against hers. His face warmed, the blush spreading outwards from where their lips touched, down his throat and across his chest, and a sense of rightness, of home, filled him. Slowly, after what felt like an age, he drew back a fraction, his eyes still closed and his breath coming in shallow, fast gasps.

“Tara...” he whispered, at a loss of what to say and longing for eloquence that had deserted him the moment she’d asked him to kiss her.

Her fingers found his face, thumbs slipping over his dark brows, around and along his cheekbones. The stubble on his cheeks prickled her fingers. “I know,” she breathed against the corner of his mouth. “Just... do it now. Fuck me now.”

He cursed fluently, the air bursting from his lungs in a harsh rush, as he scrambled for her waist, his hands finding the hem of her tunic and shoving the material up, catching her tights and panties together. He dropped to his knees, peeling them down her thighs until they caught at the top of her boots, pausing in his hurried actions to press his lips against the softness of her bare skin and nuzzling his nose against the patch of reddish curls over her pubic bone. He inhaled deeply, shuddering on a moan.

“Jesus, sweetheart, you smell so good,” he said huskily, trailing kisses across the lower swell of her belly before sitting back on his heels. Long fingers curved around her ankle, lifting her foot to pull off one soft, chocolate leather boot, followed by the the second. His hand closed around the hosiery still gathered between her knees, and he grunted, his cock throbbing as the drenched gusset of her panties settled against his skin. “Fuck, Tara, these’re soaked,” he exclaimed, pulling them down to her ankles and standing.

“Yeah,” she murmured, her face flushing. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you... about this morning.” His eyes closed, lips parting on a hard breath at her admission. His toes settled over the bunched up fabric, his hands closing around her hips as he encouraged her to free her feet from the clothes. Tara watched him, kicking the garments away from her.

“Up...” he urged, pressing her back against the desk, until she lifted herself onto the surface with her hands. He tugged her hips, positioned her at the edge. His hand slid to her knees, spreading them apart and he lowered himself back to the floor between them. “Keep quiet, babe, unless you want the whole shop to know,” he warned her, dipping his shoulders underneath her thighs and opening his mouth over her in one swift movement. Tara bit back a groan, her fingers tightening on the edge of the desk and she closed her eyes, losing herself in the heat of his mouth on her wet skin.  
  
Sebastian’s pulse roared in his ears as the flat of his tongue swept along her slippery folds, and he hummed against her as her scent, her flavour filled his mouth. One arm curled around her thigh, his thumb and forefinger separating her lips and he circled her swollen clit, tight, teasing movements as he looked up through his lashes at her, at her reactions.

“Oh God, Sebastian...” Tara moaned, her breath coming quickly. Her belly trembled and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, whimpering as she looked down at him with heavy-lidded eyes. His lashes fluttered as his eyes rolled back, his free hand clamping across her calf for a moment before lifting to settle over her thigh, his pants painfully tight and his desire balling low in his belly. He shifted, suckling gently as he traced patterns over her with the point of his tongue. When his eyes opened, the blue was almost invisible.

She whined, every swipe of his tongue over her clit sending hot pulses of pleasure through her. Her head fell forward, her thighs tightening over his shoulders. “Yes, yes, please don’t stop, baby...” she panted, her hips lifting against his mouth. “Thought about your mouth all day, making me come...”

His moan, even muffled against her, was filthy, his fingers spasming against her and - with one last squeeze of the soft flesh under it -  his hand left her thigh. She jolted at the first brush of his fingertips against her folds, and he shifted under her, bringing the other hand to her hip to hold her in place as he slicked his fingers through her wetness, coating them thoroughly before burying them inside her. His knuckles pressed into her as he swept the pads over the front wall of her pussy, alternating between carefully placed flickers and long, frantic thrusts as he willed her on. He pulled back a fraction, his hot breath gusting across her damp skin.

“C’mon,” he urged, his voice rough, “I can feel how close you are, need you to come for me then I can fuck you.” His mouth parted against her again as he hungrily suckled at her, his fingers finding the precise spot inside her as his eyes locked on hers, begging her to let go.

Tara bit down hard on her lip, holding back a cry as she spasmed around his fingers, her cunt going molten as her entire body shook with pleasure. His lips widened, lapping at her with long, firm strokes as his fingers dragged against her, prolonging her release. She gasped and whimpered, bending forward, her hands sliding into his hair and gripping tight as she rode out the final waves of her climax.

“Stop stop, I can’t...” She begged, tugging his hair to pull him back. “Sebastian...”

He rocked back, his scalp tingling and dragged the back of his hand across his mouth. Slowly withdrawing his fingers from her, he slid them between his lips to hungrily suck her essence from them, his other hand settling on the front of her trembling thigh and drawing soothing circles. Only when her breathing had slowed a fraction did he stand, reaching behind him for the padded, armless chair and pulling it closer. He took a step back, ensuring that she was watching, and his hands dropped to his belt.

“God, you taste so fuckin’ good,” he ground out, working the leather free from the buckle and popping the top button of his jeans. “Swear to God I could taste you all mornin’, every time I breathed in deep, all I could smell was you, all I could think of was how good you are to me, how pretty you are when you come all over my face.”

Tara’s breath caught, his words echoing in her ears as she watched his fingers close around the tab of his zipper, slowly dragging it down; the teeth separated over the taut material of his boxer briefs where they stretched over his erection. He slid his hand under the denim and she groaned as he flattened his palm against himself, massaging while she watched, her eyes focused hungrily on the movement of his hand over his cock and his breath hissing over his teeth.

“Fuck, Tara, need to be inside you,” he gasped, shucking his jeans and shorts down his thighs until they caught at his knees, and he dropped down into the chair. He crooked his finger, gesturing her to join him. “Please, baby?”

By the last syllable, she’d slid from the desk, crossing the small space between them in a single step. She took his face in her hands, crushing her mouth to his as she straddled his lap, licking at his lips until they parted and she could sweep her tongue inside. She could feel the heat of his cock, so close to her slick skin and she moaned into his mouth at the thought of him filling her, stretching her open. His hand landed at her waist, his fingers digging into her soft flesh and his hips arched up beneath her, sliding the full length of himself through her wetness. The tip of his cock nudged over her still-sensitive clit and he whimpered against her lips, breaking away with a gasp as his head dropped back against the top of the chair back.

“Please, Tara...” he begged, the tension drawing the skin around his eyes tight, “Won’t last if you tease me any more.”

She pressed her forehead to his, using one hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she reached between them, guiding the head of his cock to her opening. Her mouth opened, her breath rushing out of her as she took in the full length of him, lowering herself into his lap until he was buried deep inside her and she felt herself pulse around his shaft, pleasure flooding through her, spreading out from behind her navel.

Sebastian held his breath, his back arching at the tight heat, her muscles squeezing him as he desperately tried to give her a moment to adjust. His hips bucked under her, though, despite his efforts, and he glanced down, one hand releasing her to bunch up her top, lifting it far enough that he could stare at the point where their bodies met. He rolled his hips, his eyelids fluttering at the rush of sensation and the sight of his slick length sliding into her, and a soft whine sounded in the back of his throat. He released the material, his nerve endings sparking as it drifted against the tense muscles of his belly, and reached up to cup her breast through the fabric, squeezing and pinching at the hardened peak through her clothing.

Tara grunted, catching hold of his wrist and then finding the other, pulling both of them up, his elbows bending as she lifted his hands until his fingers interlinked behind his head. He gasped, his dick twitching inside of her and his teeth capturing his bottom lip. She held his arms tightly, circling her hips down, watching his face. “It’s my turn,” she rasped, clenching her walls around him, “to fuck you.”

“Holy fuck,” he groaned, his eyes closing tightly until the crease between his eyes deepened, his fingers splaying at the press against his wrists. “Shit, Tara, please... you’re gonna kill me.” He arched up beneath her, his hips pinned between her knees, and he whined at his curtailed movement. “ _Please_ , baby... fuck me, then, do it. Do it _now_ , darlin’, I need to come...” Pleas fell from his lips, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths as he squirmed helplessly. He knew he could break free. He didn’t want to.

“Yeah?” she chuckled, grinding down at a torturous pace. “That what you want? You want me to fuck you til you come for me?” Sebastian nodded emphatically and she licked her lips, leaning forward to brush them against his. “I thought about it before I called you... wanted to hear your voice, to see you again... wanted to feel you inside me.”

He pinned his lips between his teeth, muffling the moan that broke free as she spoke, at the exquisite torment of her sliding along him slowly, far too slowly, at her admission and he fought back the urge to twist free, to hold her hips and fuck himself up into her until she begged him to stop. “I want it, I _want_ it... please Tara, please, _please_... fuck, _baby_...” he whimpered, his abs tensing and relaxing, his balls already tight against his body; if only, only she’d just _move_ , just a little more...

“Please what, darlin’? Tell me.” She nipped at his lips, at the corner of his jaw, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Tell me what you want.”

A moan filled the room, a noise so full of arousal, of need, that Sebastian wondered where it had come from; it took him a moment to realise it was him. His vision narrowed, focused on her face, on her heavy lidded eyes, while the twisting need in his belly almost overwhelmed him.

“Fuck, Tara, _please_ , I need to come so _bad..._ please fuck me, I _need_ it, need you to make me come... please, baby, _make_ me...” he pleaded, his head rolling against the chair, exhaling hard through his open mouth as his thighs tensed beneath her, his toes curling inside his boots. “Oh _God_ , _please_...”

She released his wrists, bringing her palms to his face to cup his cheeks as he squirmed beneath her and she increased the pace of her movements, riding him harder, faster, breathing out soft whispers against his lips. “Shh, I got you, just let it go. Show me what you need, baby.”

He tangled one hand into his hair, fingers tugging hard enough for his scalp to sting at the roots, and he slipped the side of the other hand into his mouth, biting down to muffle his grunts. He pressed his forehead into the crook of her neck, the scruff on his jaw scraping across the bared skin of her shoulder and his hips slammed up to meet her movements, the sound of slick skin loud in his ears.

Tara’s hands moved to the back of the chair, holding it tight as she moved on him, her head dropping to his shoulder. His breath caught in his lungs, his eyes widening and his head fell back, releasing his his spit-damp hand to drop between them. “Shit, _shit_ , baby, I’m gonna come...” he whimpered, his thumb pressing against her clit and flicking.

Sebastian’s jaw tightened and he ground his teeth together, trying to fight the inexorable creep of his release under his skin, his thoughts a litany of _not yet, just a bit longer, wait, just wait for her_. His eyes closed, his forehead furrowing and the crease between his brows deepening as he struggled to keep hold on his frayed control long enough to bring her over the edge. After only a few more seconds, though, his eyes shot open, finding hers and he shook his head in apology.

“Oh _God_... I can’t, fuck, _m’sorry_...” he gasped, groaning as his hips snapped up then stilled almost completely. The tension twisted deep around the base of his spine unravelled, and pleasure flooded through him, his cock swelling and throbbing, and he emptied himself into her. His mind blanked out for a moment, his vision blurring and his ears filled with the rush of blood through his veins.

Tara’s breath shuddered out of her, her belly clenching as he came. She pressed her face into his neck, her mouth opening on a whimpered sob as the warmth of his climax filled her, her thighs shaking as she gripped him tight. Tears streamed from her eyes and she sucked in a breath, holding it in her lungs until her chest ached, her fingers sliding up into Sebastian’s hair to hold him close.

Sebastian came back to reality with her tears against his skin, and his face crumpled as he stared up at the ceiling for a moment in dismay. After a moment of panic, he folded his arms around her and held her steady, shifting minutely to pull her closer to him. His heart raced, his chest tight, and the skin along his spine crawled in fear.

“God, Tara, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered, rocking her in his arms and raising one hand to cup the back of her head, stroking her hair as he held her face against his neck. “Shit... babe, I’m so sorry.... Please... tell me what I did, so I can try and fix it...”

She sobbed out a breath, pulling her face from his neck to focus her eyes on his. Her tears had streaked mascara down her cheeks and she tried to brush it away, her face red with embarrassment. He reached up, sweeping her hands aside, and wiped away the dark runs with the pad of his thumb. “Don’t... just... don’t apologise... it’s not...” She hiccuped back a sob. “I... I don’t know what’s happening. I dunno about...” she sniffed, shaking her head, her eyes closing tightly. “All these feelings. What I’m gonna do... I feel... I’m...”

She blew out a breath. “God, I’m such a fuckin’ horrible person, aren’t I?” She opened her eyes to look at him. “I am.”

His brows fell into a frown. “No, babe, no. You’re not. I...” he sighed, running a hand over his face, through his hair. “I’m not making this easy on you. I shouldn’t have...” He grimaced. Once again, words failed him when he needed them the most.

Tara shook her head, her blue eyes fixed on his. “I did this too. I wanted this too. I... called you here and this morning, I... I said yes. You gave me an out and I didn’t take it. And I don’t...” She tilted her head, her expression dolorous and her voice softened. “I don’t regret it. It’s not... about that. I just... can’t explain how I feel right now but I feel like if I don’t then you’ll walk out that door and things will just...” Tears welled in her eyes again. “I wouldn’t be able to handle that.”

Sebastian sighed, pulled her head back down to his shoulder, stroking from her neck to the base of her spine and back, long, slow sweeps and let her cry. His own feelings felt like they were about to suffocate him, wedged painfully in his throat. When her tears eventually lessened, he pushed at her shoulders, cupping her chin and lifted her face to meet his.

“I am not going anywhere, Tara. Whatever happens, I am not gonna just walk away,” He forced the corner of his mouth to quirk up. “You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid,” He paused, brushing a loose skein of hair behind her ear and skimmed a tender kiss over her forehead, licking absently at the tip of his thumb and slowly working at the smears of makeup on her cheeks. “I know... There’s Chris,” His gut clenched, and he squashed down the growl of jealousy that sprang up in response. “And it’s not like this,” He gestured between them. “wouldn’t be an emotional fuckin’ nightmare anyway.”

He swallowed, squashing his own insecurity and tumultuous emotions; he needed to be the reassurance for Tara right now.

“We’ll figure it out, babe. I promise,” he whispered, pulling her firmly against him and squeezing hard.

“I know,” she murmured, nuzzling into his neck. “I really do, I... I know we’ll work it out.” She sighed, lifting her face from his shoulder to look at him. “Will you...” she swallowed, her brow furrowing. “Will you take me home? I can’t... I can’t stay here like this. I can message Kara and let her know, I just... I want to go home.”

He nodded, biting back on the urge to say more for now. “Of course, if that’s what you want. Do you...” he glanced between them, to where he was still lodged inside of her. “Uh... tissues?”

Tara sniffed and laughed a little, nodding at him with a smile. “Yeah. Cleaning up is probably a good idea.” He smiled back, giggling once in response. She stood up slowly, biting her lip as he withdrew from her, then took a step back. She bent to pick up her discarded clothes, nodding toward a door on the opposite wall that led to her small bathroom. “I can clean up in there and bring you something or...or you can come too.”

He reached out, took her hand, and pulled himself up to his feet, grabbing for his jeans before they hobbled him. “Okay. Let’s go.”


	3. Chapter 3

As soon as they’d managed to sneak out of Sully’s, with a minimum of interaction, Sebastian had driven them back to the house while Tara had texted her explanations and apologies to Kara and Nigel, the bookstore employee. Sebastian had stolen glances at her as he drove, his forehead creasing as she rested her head back against the seat, her eyes closed. He was tired, but she looked positively exhausted, which was, to be fair, probably mostly his fault.

She’d been lightly dozing when he turned into the drive and pulled up, starting awake as he set his hand on her shoulder, and once they had dumped their coats and boots, he’d taken her hand to lead her upstairs. She’d flopped onto the bed, letting him manhandle her under the comforter, and finally, he’d crawled in beside her, wrapping himself along her back. He’d fallen asleep with one arm pillowing their heads, the other draped across her waist, and his face buried in her hair; she’d been gently snoring almost as soon as her head had hit the pillow.

When he woke next, the sun was much lower in the sky, the pale yellow light insipid. He shivered slightly, his shoulders chilled where the covers had slipped off him. Tara continued to sleep as he carefully disentangled himself and slid off the edge of the bed, snagging his sweater and pulling it over his goose-pimpled arms. Crossing the room silently, he stepped into the hall and pulling her door shut behind him. He headed downstairs on silent feet, avoiding the creaky step before stopping in the bathroom on the way to the kitchen to make himself coffee. Standing by the counter, while the water slowly percolated through the coffee grounds, he rested his elbows on the surface and covered his face with a small grumble.

He hadn’t expected that to happen.

He’d thought they would have lunch. He thought they might manage to laugh a little, make a few jokes, that he’d keep her busy during the end of the quiet shift maybe, then they’d go home. If he was lucky, they’d talk, figure things out, and everything would be fine, thanks very much.

He one hundred percent had _not_ intended to find that even watching her eat drove him crazy. Or that by the time she’d finished just being herself, he’d be aching for her and making a shameful display of himself in a public place like he was thirteen years old again. He certainly hadn’t planned to end up having her ride him on her office chair, then burst into tears afterwards.

Still... at least it wasn’t him crying when he came this time.

_Small mercies._

It bothered him, though. She’d been incredible. So confident, so... he shook his head, banging his forehead into his hands where they were pressed flat against the counter top. She drove him crazy.

_She’s wrecking me._

He glanced at his watch. Gretchen had said three. It was past that now. He paused, tilting his head towards the doorway and listening for any signs of movement. Hearing none, he dragged his cup from the draining board and filled it with the fresh coffee. From where he stood, he reached into the fridge for the milk and splashed some into the mug. With the milk replaced and the hot liquid warming his hands, he wandered towards the guest room beneath Tara’s containing his belongings. At least then he’d have some warning when Tara woke. She didn’t really need to hear his overanxious babbling to his therapist, after all.

The fire wasn’t laid in the bedroom and Sebastian couldn’t bring himself to bother. He bundled the blankets around his shoulders instead, wrapping himself snugly, and propped himself against the headboard. When he was comfortable, he plugged his headphones into his cell phone, nudged the buds into his ears, and hit redial.

“Hello again, Sebastian.” Gretchen answered after the second ring, and didn’t sound even slightly surprised to be hearing from him for the second time that day.

“I don’t think I’m making very good choices right now.” he blurted out. His eyes closed and he sighed. Apparently his mouth was detached from his brain at the moment.  “Sorry... I only just woke up and the caffeine hasn’t worked its way to my bloodstream yet. Hello, Gretchen. How are you, and is this a good time?”

“It is a fine time, Sebastian. And I am well.” The suppressed amusement was clear in her voice, but it faded as she continued. “I take it there have been new developments since this morning’s discussion?”

He huffed out a small laugh. “Yeah, that’s probably a good way to describe it,” He paused, taking a sip of his coffee and considering his words. “Well I’m pretty sure Tara doesn’t _hate_ me right now. But I don’t know... I guess that’s about it,” he said, before adding softly, “I can’t get her out of my head. Everything she does right now is driving me crazy.”

Gretchen made a noncommittal noise. “Have you talked about things?”

Sebastian coughed, feeling his face burn. “Uh... no... Well a little but... no, not really. Like I said. My decision making probably leaves a lot to be desired right now.” His chest ached as he remembered her sobbing into his neck earlier. His voice was small, guilty when he admitted, ”I think I made her cry... She said it wasn’t... it was just everything, she was overwhelmed and confused... We were both tired...” he sighed harshly, rubbed his face.

“Why did you think it was your fault... what made you feel that way? When she was crying, how did that make you feel?” As always, Gretchen simply posed questions, waiting for Sebastian to work through his thoughts and place them into some kind of order. Her tone held no judgement, and Sebastian was never more grateful for that than now.

“We ate. Things... happened. I shouldn’t have... I should have been stronger and stopped it until we’d actually talked. Figured stuff out. Or tried to, at least,” he explained. “And... she was different. Like she was, I dunno, not pretending, that’s too strong. But like she was behaving in a way to please me but in the process it upset her. And that made _me_ feel sad too. Guilty. Responsible, for her hurting, for making the hurt stop. I wanted to make her feel safe and protected and happy... and instead she...” Sebastian stopped, his eyes squeezed shut for a moment. “She’s actually afraid. She’s afraid that if she doesn’t make the right choice, that I’d leave her life. She’s never felt like that before. _I_ made her feel that way. And I’m... not enjoying that feeling.” He sniffed, grinding his teeth together, his throat aching.

“So you feel as though you’ve put her in an awkward position,” she summarised. “Have you told her how you feel?”

“A little, yeah. We kinda just... crashed out for a while though. She’s still asleep. We couldn’t really talk properly, at the time. But I told her I wasn’t going to do that. That I got that it was complicated, I said I was sorry. I don’t know that it helped much. She just kinda... pulled her shit together and asked me to take her home.” He slumped against the pillows, finishing his coffee. “I’m really bad at this. Why am I so bad at his stuff?” he asked rhetorically.

“I don’t know that anyone is good at navigating relationships, Sebastian,” Gretchen told him gently. “It’s something we learn as we go. And everyone’s different. You likely know Tara better than anyone but this side of her, the intimate side... that’s a new side that you’ve not explored before. It’s going to take time to understand her. Just like it will take her time to understand you.” She paused. “You have to be comfortable with yourselves in this new space. Until then, things will be difficult. That’s why communication is so important.”

“I know... I guess I just don’t know what to tell her. I want to be able to say ‘This is me, this is where I’m at, now it’s your turn’. But I don’t even know if I can even believe my feelings. What if I’m just... taking the easy route? What if I’m really just doing this because being around her... it’s easy, and it’s safe?” His breath trembled and he draped his forearm across his eyes, letting his sweater absorb the growing dampness in the corners of his eyes. “I don’t even know where to start pullin’ on this mess to unwind it. I want to protect her and I’m so afraid I’ll end up breaking her instead.”

There was a quiet hum before she spoke again. “I think it’s probably time you also started thinking about your own self-care, Sebastian. What do you need to do to take care of yourself right now?”

“I don’t actually know, honestly,” he admitted. “I guess that’s why I pay you the big bucks, so you point out what I can’t figure out for myself...”

She laughed. “Take a breath. Spend some time alone, just... think about what’s happened and how to move forward. Then talk to her. Right now, if neither of you are sure what’s going on, you have to talk. Don’t make assumptions.”

He snorted. “Yeah, yeah. I remember. Makes an ‘ass’ out of ‘u’ and ‘me’.” He glanced up at the ceiling, the floorboards creaking. “I guess I should probably go. I think Tara’s awake. I’ll try and be a responsible adult now.”

“Alright, then, Sebastian. You can do this. Have faith in yourself and we’ll talk soon.”

They said their goodbyes and Sebastian rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. His head was starting to ache again, a tight band around his temples, and with a sigh, he wandered into the ensuite to raid the Tylenol for the second time that day. He was waiting when Tara eventually padded into the kitchen, eyes still heavy with sleep. He passed her a mug, quirked a smile at her and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek as he wandered through to the living room. Tara followed behind after a moment, finding him kneeling in front of the fire and building it back up from the embers.

“How are you feeling now?” he asked, glancing up at her as he finished adding wood to the grate. “You don’t look quite so exhausted, at least.”

“Good... I’m good,” she murmured, watching as he brushed off his hands onto his jeans and straightened up in front of her. “How long have you been up?”

He smiled gently, plucking the mug from her hands and placing it onto the mantelpiece before reaching out to pull her in for a hug. “A little while. Just long enough for a cup of coffee.” For a minute, they just stood there, her arms trapped between their chests, the side of her hands pressed against his breastbone and her brow against his clavicle, his chin resting on the crown of her head. With a sigh, Sebastian stepped back, his hands lingering on her upper arms, and he searched her face.

“I’m gonna go out for a while, babe,” he told her, his voice gentle. Even though she quickly covered it, he failed to miss the fall in her expression and his brows knitted. “Oh hey, no... I’m not upset or anything, not with you. It’s not that at all. I just... I think it might be a good idea to have a little time to think about everything... to get it straight in my head. Or at least try to. Y’know, just to process everything?” His eyes widened, entreating her understanding and she nodded, stepping back.

“I need to start dinner anyway. Do you know how long you’ll be?” she asked, and his lips twisted into a small grimace.

“Not really,” he said, shaking his head. “I should only be gone for a little while, though. I’m only going for a walk, and with the weather like it is, I’m not gonna go very far.” He gave her a small grin, sliding his hands along her arms and catching her fingers in his own. “It'll take a lot more than this to get rid of me.” He watched as she bit her hip and nodded, her eyes troubled despite the smile she pasted onto her face, and his chest ached with guilt.  

“Okay. Did you have any preference for dinner? Or I could just make something that can sit until you get back,” she offered.

Sebastian smiled, squeezing her hands before releasing them. “That sounds like a good idea. I’m thinking comfort food, something warm to chase away the cold.”

Tara’s smile became a little less forced and he could almost see her mind start to work. Stepping forward, his hands rose, curling at the back of her head, and he brushed his lips over her forehead. “Thank you babe. Love you. I’ll try not to be too long, okay? I just need to clear my head, organise everything,” he murmured. She nodded wordlessly and his lips twitched into a small smile, before he turned and headed for the mudroom.

As he bent over to pull on his boots, working the laces tight before tying them, he sighed. His thoughts were whirling so fast that he wasn’t sure that a marathon would be long enough to settle them, let alone allow him to start to sort out his feelings. But Gretchen was usually right, and he knew that any kind of exercise would also help to buoy his mood. Straightening up, he wound a soft, grey scarf around his neck and pulled on his dark blue jacket, zipping it up until just the knot was visible. He turned up the thick collar of his sweater where it peeked out of the the top of his coat, covering his ears as he tugged a black ball-cap over his messy curls and opened the back door. Although the weather service reported that it was barely below freezing, the arctic wind bit at his exposed skin, making it feel far cooler. The sky was mottled grey, clouds scudding across it as the afternoon light faded rapidly, and he almost closed the door again. With one last, longing look back at the warm glow spilling from the doorway to the living room, he stepped out onto the frozen gravel and closed the door behind him.

 

~ X ~

 

Tara let out a breath once she heard him leave, dropping down onto the couch, her eyes blurring as she stared at the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree.

 _Fifteen years_.

She tucked her legs up beneath her, drawing a heavy afghan from the back of the sofa around her shoulders as she started to cry.

_Why now?_

It was the same question she’d been asking herself all day. Why now? Why not in college? Why not the dozens of times there was opportunity but never anything acted upon? And why hadn’t she paid enough attention to realise just how deep her own feelings ran?

 _Because it’s easier than being rejected_.

She sobbed into the blanket until it was soaked, her mind a miasma of what ifs and why nots, every thought leading down a rabbit hole of missed opportunities and doors closed between them at such precise moments that suddenly the reasons seemed crystal clear.

 _He was hiding his feelings the same way I was hiding mine_.

She sighed, swiping the back of her hands over her eyes to try and refocus them on the tree, only to see one of the ornaments Chris had helped her hang the night before.

 _Fuck_ . _And what about Chris?_

She wanted him, _had_ wanted him for so long she’d actually forgotten when the feelings first started, and last night he’d been _hers_. She would’ve never thought it would happen, even with a little extra help from the brownies, but it seemed having him here, in her house, lowered her inhibitions enough to put herself out there.

And he went with it.

 _Twice_ , she reminded herself, thinking back to his intrusion on her shower and the toothy grin he’d given her at the front door after he’d kissed her goodbye.

 _“I’ll come see you for lunch,”_ he’d said, and she’d agreed, though called later and told him it wasn’t a good idea. Not after what had happened with Sebastian. There was no way she could face him so soon after that. She’d made up a story about feeling a bit strange from the brownies, knowing it sounded ridiculous, but Chris hadn’t questioned her, offering dinner at his place the next night instead.

She’d accepted, hoping that she and Sebastian would figure out what was going on before then.

 _Yeah, not likely, Tara_.

She shook her head and let out an exasperated sigh, re-draped the blanket over the back of the couch and got to her feet, heading into the kitchen to pull the ingredients together for pizza.

The base was pre-made, bought from the deli in town, and it didn’t take long to assemble the toppings and spread them over the pizza. Homemade sauce with lots of garlic, pepperoni, sliced mushrooms, and three types of cheese. Simple. A pizza she’d made for the two of them a hundred times over the years.

But this time she found her stomach in a knot, hoping it was enough. Hoping he’d like it. Hoping it was the right choice. She covered the pizza with foil and set it on the stove, turning on the oven so it would be at the right temperature to bake when he arrived, then went out into the laundry to pull drinks from the spare fridge. She placed two bottles of mineral water and two bottles of a cider they both liked into the fridge in the kitchen, then sat down at the table.

It was snowing outside and the windows had already started to steam up from the heat of the oven. She checked the clock over the fridge and closed her eyes. It had been an hour and she was no closer to a clear head than she was before.

 _But you know what you want_...

The sound of the back door opening drew her out of her thoughts, and she looked up, listening as Sebastian stamped snow from his boots, the whisper of fabric and the snick of the zipper as he removed his jacket. A minute later he appeared, padding across the polished wood floor in his socks, his cheeks chapped by the cold wind and the tip of his nose red. The hair at the nape of his neck curled damply against his skin, and a couple of snowflakes clung to his eyelashes, rapidly melting in the warmth of the room.

“Oh _God_ I need coffee,” he groaned, running his hands through his hair as he rushed over to the half-full pot and fixed himself a cup, before joining her at the table, nursing the mug between his hands. “Whose crazy idea was it to go for a walk in the snow? I’m frozen.” He paused, sniffing the air, and looked at her curiously. “I don’t smell anything cooking... were you waiting on me?”

She nodded and gave him a smile, folding her hands together on the table in front of her. “Pizza. I wanted to hold off until you got back before puttin’ it on. The oven’s hot though, so whenever you’re ready...”

His eyes closed and he made a happy noise. “Oh God, yes... please. You’re amazing. Now? Now, please.” He opened an eye and quirked an eyebrow up, his lips twitching and Tara couldn’t help but giggle.

“Yeah, okay. _Now_ it is.” She pushed her chair back and got to her feet, heading over to the stove. She pulled the foil off of the pizza and picked up the stone, lowering the oven door before sliding it onto the rack.

She closed the door and set the timer, then walked to the fridge. “Want somethin’ stronger than coffee?” she asked, opening the refrigerator door. “Got some cider, if you’re interested.”

He glanced over and nodded, tipping his head back to drain his mug. “Sure, why not? Is it that good one you had last time I was here?” He pushed his mug to the side, flexing his fingers now that they were no longer burning from the cold. It had been a longer walk than he’d initially intended, but if nothing else, he felt more steady than he had when he’d left.

“Yep,” she answered, pulling the two bottles from the door before heading back to the table. She’d brought the bottle opener from the fridge, too, and she offered it to him first, sliding one of the ciders to him across the surface. “All yours.”

He smiled, thanking her and popped the lid from the bottle with a quick flick of his wrist, before pushing the opener back over towards her. He took a sip, the aroma of red apples and something almost floral, sweet and creamy scenting the breath filling his lungs before the crisp, tangy liquid bubbled over his tongue. He swallowed, smacking his lips and looked over, his head tilting to the side. “You okay there?” he asked softly, his eyes searching her face.

“Yeah,” she smiled, her eyes tired, and set to work removing the top from her own bottle. “Just a lot on my mind, I guess.” She lowered her eyes shyly, giving a slight shrug. “You know what I mean.”

He traced his thumb over the compass on the label of the cider, wishing he had one that could point the way through all of this. The lingering awkwardness, the not knowing, was gnawing inside his stomach, and he blew out a huff of breath. “I do, yes,” he agreed, pretending he hadn’t noticed the red rimming her eyes. For a minute, they sat in silence, until he angled the bottle towards her, saying, “This is still good.”

She took a sip and nodded, sighing as it slid warmly down her throat. “Yeah, I love it. Will go good with the pizza, too.” She let her gaze drift up to the clock. “Not long to go.”

He glanced across, and hummed, taking another sip. “Yeah. Good thing about pizza, you don’t have to wait an hour for it.”

“Exactly,” Tara grinned and took a long drink of the cider, closing her eyes as she swallowed. “And melted cheese makes all things better.”

Sebastian snorted, shaking his head. “You and your cheese.”

“At least mine comes from the store,” she retorted, snickering into the mouth of the bottle as she peered over at him.

His eyes widened and his mouth fell open. “Are you calling me cheesy? Well... charming!” he huffed, affecting an outraged expression, though his eyes were teasing.

“Hey, just goin’ on what I’ve heard,” she shrugged, inhaling deeply as the rich scent of garlic and tomatoes and baking dough started to fill the room.

His nose twitched and his mouth began to water, his stomach rumbling in response. “Oh really? And what, exactly, have you heard?” he asked, nudging her leg with his toes, making her giggle, and she covered her mouth almost bashfully.

“Dunno. Just... stuff.” She swallowed, her cheeks turning pink as much from embarrassment as the alcohol hitting her bloodstream and the warmth in the room. “Girls talk, y’know?”

“Oh, do they?” he muttered, chuckling wryly, and he crossed his arms on the table, leaning towards her. “Well... come on... spill. What have people... _girls_... been saying about me?”

“Nothin’ you haven’t confirmed yourself,” she answered quietly, her eyes finally meeting his. “That you’re always super sweet and attentive. That you give the best gifts and almost always go over the top... Because that’s who you are.” His eyes softened, and he smiled shyly as she paused and looked down again, taking another sip of cider. “Nobody had to tell me that for me to know it. You’re always that way with me, too... Whether I deserve it or not.”

Sebastian’s smile faded, and his brows knitted together. “Woah, wait, what? Why would you not deserve it?” he asked, straightening up and pinning his gaze on her. “You’ve been my best friend for years, I love you to pieces. You’ve never been anything but supportive, kind, and generally all ‘round amazing, so... why the hell would you say that, babe?”

Tara gave a self-deprecating shrug and sighed. “‘Cos sometimes I feel like you... you’re just _too_ good to me, I guess. I dunno. Forget I said it...”

He shook his head. “I can’t just forget that, Tara... How long have you...?” He exhaled slowly, trying to calm the disquiet inside him. “This is me. This is how I’ve _always_ been. Heart on my sleeve, and all that. You know I like to treat the people I really care about, whether that’s family, partners, or friends... and you... well you already fall into two of those categories, even before the last couple of days.”

“I know, and that’s why I... I said forget I said anything... It’s just my head, right now, messin’ with me.” She frowned, her heart hammering in her chest, the cold grip of fear making her spine straighten and her skin prickle with goosebumps. “That’s all it is, okay?”

His eyes narrowed and he reached over, placing his hand over hers. “Hey... it’s alright. Tara, look at me.” He waited till her eyes flicked to his, and he smiled gently, his fingers squeezing hers. “Breathe... It’s okay, it’s fine. We’ll... we’ll figure it out, okay? We can talk later.”

“Yes,” she answered quietly, the word nearly lost in the buzz of the timer going off on the stove. She smiled a little and lifted her eyebrows. “After pizza.”


	4. Chapter 4

They’d eaten their dinner mostly in silence, and by the time Sebastian stood up to carry his plate to the sink, he’d been itching to just get the air cleared between them. They both retreated to the living room, and he threw a log onto the fire before following her to the couch. He lowered himself down next to her, twisting in place to face her, one leg bent in front of him and his arm across the back of the sofa, his head propped on his hand.

“So...” he started. His stomach flipped nervously. “We’re talking right?”

Tara nodded, letting out a sigh. “Yeah. Talking is... needed, I think.”

He stared at her for a moment, the fingers of the hand under his head absently toying with his hair. He frowned slightly at a twinge in his thumb, looking down to where the other hand rested on his thigh and he’d been unconsciously picking at the skin around his nail. He curled his hand into a ball, tucking his thumb under his fingers and looked back up.

“I’m not entirely sure where to start.” he admitted. “I... have so much stuff going on in here.” He lifted his head and tapped his temple twice with his first two fingers before resting his cheek back into his palm.  
  
She tucked her socked feet up beneath her legs, turning so that she was facing him with her whole body as he spoke. Her face remained soft, slightly plaintive. “I know. There’s a lot in my head, too.”

He nodded, acknowledging her words, before continuing. “But I do know two things. I know that I love you, and that’s never going to change, whatever happens. And I know that I want you to be happy, even if that isn’t with me.”

Her brow furrowed. She looked down at her hands, clasping them together in her lap. “I don’t... we need to talk about what that means.” She flicked her eyes back up to his face. “I mean, I love you too. That’s... that’s a part of who we are. Havin’ you in my life is important to me. And today, well, since last night... things have just been so confusing.”

His chest hurt. As muddled as his feelings were, seeing them mirrored on her face was so much more painful. He lifted his hand and reached towards her, intending to cover hers but stopped. As much as he wanted to comfort her, smooth away the frown, this conversation needed to happen with clear minds. The last thing he wanted was to muddy the waters with desire right now. Instead, he flattened his hand over his knee, rubbing his palm against the rough denim.

“I know. What I’m trying to say is that... whatever else happens between us, or doesn’t... whatever my feelings might be or whatever yours turn out to be...” He paused and swallowed the lump forming in this throat.

_Suck it up, Jesus..._

“Whether I’m _in_ love with you or not, I will still always love you. You’re my best friend, Tara. You will always be that to me. I just... I need for you to know that. To believe that.” He stopped suddenly, his eyes focusing more intently on her. “Wait, what... Since... last night?” The crease deepened between his eyes. “I... uh. We hadn’t... I’m a little confused.”

“Things happened with Chris last night, things that I wasn’t expecting,” she clarified, shaking her head. “As you’re well aware.” She lifted her brows and gave him a weak smile. His cheeks burned furiously, but he returned her smile crookedly.

“I’m never gonna live this down, am I?” he joked softly, before gesturing for her to continue.

Tara tilted her head and grinned a little. “It’s okay. I just... You know there’ve been times before when I came close to asking him out, even back in May, in New York. I almost... I would’ve but too much was going on at the time.” She took a breath and let it out, licking her lips. “So last night and this morning, with him, it was...” She frowned, but kept her eyes on his face. “It would be unfair to lie to you and say that I don’t feel something for him.”

It took every shred of his acting ability to maintain a relatively neutral expression. This wasn’t precisely news to him, of course he was aware of her feelings for Chris; they’d talked about it often enough, he’d gently teased her, even, for being almost star-struck around the other man at times. But it still felt like a knife in his belly to be reminded of it so bluntly. He tried to swallow, his throat constricted painfully, and inhaled deeply, holding it for a beat.

“I know.” he admitted softly. “I can’t say that doesn’t hurt, but I know. And I don’t expect those feelings to simply vanish just because I finally decided to act on... well, on us.”

Tara looked at him, her face a mask of uncertainty and confusion. “Finally... you say _finally_ like this is something... something you’ve felt for a long time and have kept from me, Sebastian.” Yes, she’d thought about it before, that obviously there had been something there before and it had become clearer after this morning, but hearing him say it out loud...

He grimaced, scrunching his eyes closed for a moment, while he worked to control the sudden pulse of adrenaline spiking through him. For someone who almost became a writer instead of an actor, he was _really_ bad at words when it came to moments like this. “It’s not...” He opened his eyes, implored her with them. “That’s not what I mean... well, not exactly...” He rubbed his hand over his face with a small groan. “Jesus, I fuckin’ suck at this.” He huffed a sigh through his nose and straightened his back, his eyes on hers before he continued.

“Yes, in hindsight, I think this... these feelings have been there for a long time. But I wasn’t lying to you. Not intentionally.” He saw the doubt clouding her expression and he bit back a frustrated huff at his inability to explain himself clearly. “Fuck, Tara, I was lying to _myself_ . I was... I was so sure that you would never feel _that_ way about me so I... I just refused to go there. I didn’t let myself even acknowledge it after the first few weeks, months of knowing you. I meant it when I said that I couldn’t imagine why you’d have ever been interested in the nerdy theater kid with a funny accent and crooked teeth, babe.” He paused, his eyes flicking across her face, desperate to see understanding there.

Her eyes welled with tears, and she nodded, her voice barely a whisper as she said, “I know you meant it.” She reached forward, putting a hand on his knee and squeezed reassuringly. “You were such a good friend to me then, and I needed that. It would’ve... complicated things too much then and...” she lowered her eyes. “I made the choice to see you a certain way, even if I may have had other feelings at some points...”

“It’s okay... you don’t... I know, and that’s alright. I don’t... hold that against you.” He layered his hand over hers, tightened his fingers around her own, and just that small touch loosened the tightness restricting his lungs, just a fraction. “You don’t have to justify anything, I just... I need you to know that I never regarded our friendship as a placeholder, as... as a consolation prize. What we had... have... that’s really important to me. I need my zucchini.” He forced a small smile, his fingers itching to reach up and wipe the tears from her cheeks. “Please don’t cry. Not over this.”

Tara nodded, turning her hand to slip her fingers through his. ‘I’m trying. And I believe you. I really do.”

“Thank you,” he said. A small part of the heaviness weighing him down lifted from his shoulders and he pushed on. “All the times... the times things _almost_ happened. I... That would frighten me so fuckin’ much, so I... I guess I took the cowardly way out, found someone else to try an’ scratch that itch with.” He shrugged helplessly. “I’m sorry.” He shook his head, his eyes dropping to his lap. “It was pretty shitty of me. But I honestly didn’t even put the pieces together, until this.”

“Why... do you think now? What is it _now_ that...” Her eyes searched his face. “What do you want now?”

His brows lifted. “Why did I suddenly stop being stupid now, you mean? I want... “ He shook his head. “Right now, my heart tells me that I want you. All of you. I want to wake up next to you, fall asleep in your arms after worshipping your body, every damn day. But I... I’m me, Tara. I know how I am. I’m terrified that... I don’t want to be just another guy who takes advantage of you. I... the depth of self-loathing I would have if I persuaded you to do this, only to realise I can’t be what you need, because I’m just a lazy, insecure asshole taking the easy route is... well it’d be bad. You’d hate me. I’d hate me even more.” His eyes burned with the threat of tears. “It’d destroy me just as sure as it’d destroy you.”

Tara’s brow furrowed and she tugged her bottom lip between her teeth. “You...” Her eyes widened and she chuckled, trying to hold it back. “You think this is the _easy_ way? How in the hell could this be the easy way?” She shook her head. “I mean, I’m torn to fuckin’ pieces over here. Because I love you and I want to make you happy, but... I don’t want that to be why... if we decide to be together...” She looked down at their hands, rubbing her thumb over his palm. “It’s so hard to know what to do right now.”

He laughed wryly. “Yeah, I officially suck at communicating feelings.” For a moment, he watched her tracing patterns over his hand, resolutely ignoring the tingling creeping along his arm. “I don’t want it to be for that reason either. That’s what I’m so afraid of here, Tara. I... You said it yourself. I keep doing the same shit, datin’ the same kinda woman, then I come back to you to make things better when it all goes wrong. Being with you was always the easiest thing in the world before. We just work. Even when you lecture me about thinking with my dick.” His fingers closed around hers, stilling her movements. “I worry that’s why I want this, even though... even though it really doesn’t feel like that to me.” He sighed. “Yeah, it’s definitely hard. And I am so, _so_ fuckin’ sorry that I’ve made you feel like this.”

“Sebastian...” She shook her head. “Don’t be sorry, please... I don’t want you to apologize to me for how you feel. That’s... important to me, okay? That you tell me the truth and that we not hide our feelings. I think we’ve done that for long enough.” She gave him a wry smile. “If... if we’re gonna figure this out, we have to know the truth. Even if it really fuckin’ hurts.” She looked at him. “And that means I...” She pulled her hand from his, turning on the couch. She ran her hands over her hair. “I have to be honest with you, too. I have to tell the truth.”

Sebastian’s heart plummeted, his mouth suddenly desperately dry, but he nodded. “Alright... just... whatever it is, just tell me,” he rasped. He wished he had something to drink, but right now wasn’t the time to vanish into the kitchen, even for a moment.

Tara leaned forward and got to her feet. If she was going to confront all of those closed doors, now was the time to do it.

 _No backin’ out now_.

She pushed the loose sleeves of her oversized sweater up to her elbows and brushed the hair out of her face, walking around the coffee table. “The fact that I have to say this over here and not...” She waved a hand toward the couch. “Sitting next to you...” She laughed bitterly and put her hands on her hips. She looked up at the ceiling and blew out a breath. “There’ve been times when it was _hard_ being next to you. Being close to you. Because there’ve been points along the way where...” She lowered her eyes, looked down at her socked feet. “Where I wanted more. And maybe a small part of me thought you did too, but I ignored it. I’d hear you... when we’d be in one place or another and we’d come back drunk and I’d pretend to be asleep...”

Goosebumps rose over his entire body in a rush, every hair prickling at the root, and he doubled over, not entirely managing to bite back a groan as he buried his face into his arms. Mortification warred with arousal, and even after everything that had happened between them today, his body threatened to respond in a wholly unhelpful way. His hands slid into his hair, tugging lightly, and he sucked in slow breath. “I...” he swallowed, finally lifting his face from his arms, his cheeks pink, and shook his head as he waved at the coffee table. “That was probably a good idea, yeah.” He closed his eyes, frowning, and forced his breathing to slow. “Yeah, okay, I’m... go on...” he said finally, his fingers locked around his knees.

“Listening to you would...” She sighed, rubbing her hands over her face. “It would make me think about it. About you. About _us_. About what it would be like...” Tara looked at him, her eyes searching his face for a reaction. “That time... I know you remember that time, you mentioned earlier... when you couldn’t sleep because you were so worked up. And I told you it was okay to go ahead, do what you needed to do.”

He nodded, and swallowed. _Oh yeah_. He remembered every damn second of that night. They’d been staying in Los Angeles for an afterparty, and Tara, pleasantly tipsy, had gone up to their shared room, leaving him to continue making the rounds. By the time he’d followed her up he was more than a little drunk and had stumbled into the bathroom to pee before he burst. It wasn’t until he’d finished and turned to wash up that he’d realised that Tara was watching him from around the vaguely frosted glass door of the shower, her hair slicked to her shoulders and a bemused expression on her face. She’d shaken her head fondly and pulled the door closed, and he’d hurried out with a mumbled apology. Sure, they’d both wandered into the bathroom while the other had been showering before, but this time, her figure had been clearly visible instead of hidden behind an opaque shower curtain and he’d found himself instantly, unbearably aroused. By the time she’d appeared, dressed in her pyjamas and her hair wrapped in a towel, he had burrowed under the covers, but his mind kept returning to the shape of her curves behind the glass. He’d tried to be discreet, to hide his discomfort, but had failed dismally, and what had happened after... they hadn’t spoken of it since. He’d assumed she felt uncomfortable the next day, and he was embarrassed beyond belief at his weakness, and silence had seemed the easiest option all around.

She bit her lip, watching his face as he relived the memory. “In the end I... I had to touch you. Somehow. I had to... It was killing me.” She shook her head and turned around, facing the Christmas tree. She let her head fall back and she closed her eyes. “I wanted so much more than just to touch you.”

His vision swam. He’d guarded that memory jealously, even while there had been an unspoken agreement to pretend that it hadn’t happened. Although her hands hadn’t touched him anywhere that she wouldn’t have done normally, the memory of her fingers brushing his skin had driven him crazy for weeks afterwards. “Fuck, Tara, I...” He shook his head, his nails digging into his skin through the heavy cotton of his jeans. “I didn’t know. I didn’t realise, I... I thought that you wouldn’t ever want that from me, like... like you were just... I dunno...” He laughed, confused. “I guess I thought it was just the alcohol. Gettin’ carried away... I didn’t... I was embarrassed...”

“I know... I know you didn’t know and I didn’t... I didn’t want you to. I thought it’d be better if you didn’t.” She turned around, walking back to the coffee table. She sat down on the edge in front of him. “But now, it’s... It’s all come back and it’s probably the worst possible time. But I can’t... “ She tilted her head, her gaze fixing on his. “I can’t ignore that it’s something I feel. That everything that’s happened today has brought it to the surface.” She pressed her lips together, rubbing her hands down her thighs. “And every second that goes by it gets harder not to touch you now. It... it’s like a craving, like if I don’t... I won’t be able to breathe.”

Sebastian’s breath caught in his throat, need crawling along his spine. “I...” His eyes closed. When he answered, his voice was a whisper “I know. I feel it too. Part of me... part of me wondered if I would just... if once we’d done something, once we’d actually... I was afraid that’d be it, that I’d have risked it all for one time...” He opened his eyes. “It didn’t though. It’s fuckin’ terrifyin’ me, to want this so bad, all the time. Jesus, I...” He scrubbed his hands at his eyes, tucking them under his backside to ensure he wouldn’t just reach for her. “I swore to myself I’d be stronger this time. That we’d actually talk instead of...” he shrugged. “Messin’ around.”

Tara chuckled, leaning forward a little to nudge her knees against his. “We’re... doin’ okay so far? But...” Her eyes drifted over his face. “I don’t know how _long_ I can keep doin’ okay.”

“God, Tara...” His breath rushed out of him and he definitely twitched in his pants. “Just... please just tell me what you need to tell me before I...” His tongue swiped over his lips. “I think I need to take a very cold shower,” His chuckle was strained. “Tell me what I need to do. Please. How I can help work this out.”

Tara’s brows lifted and she sighed, shrugging. “I wish I knew, babe. I really wish I did.” She shook her head. “I don’t wanna jump in with both feet and be like, okay, this is... whatever it is, not when I know I have feelings for Chris, too, and they’re just as new.” She paused, frowning a little. “Okay, maybe this thing between us isn’t _new_ , but it hasn’t been explored and it’s just...” Tears welled in her eyes again. “I dunno how I’m supposed to handle having feelings for two people at once. How am I supposed to...” She sighed, exasperated. “Figure it out without looking like a fuckin’ horrible person?”

His face fell, and without thinking he reached for her, his fingers wrapping around her wrists and tugging her over to sit sideways across his lap. One arm curled around her waist and the other cupped the back of her head, snuggling her into the crook of his neck, shushing her with sussurated nonsense. “You’re not, you’re... You’re the best person I know, sweetheart,” he told her quietly. “I don’t expect you to just... stop feeling. I can’t... I won’t say I don’t care. I do.” He leaned back, lifted her chin. “Because I’m selfish and I want you all for myself. But I know I don’t have the right to ask that of you right now and that if I do, there’s a very big possibility that... well, bad things could happen. Losing you. Resentment. All that fun stuff. So I’ll wait. And... if you need...” His eyes dropped to her mouth, before he forced them back to meet her gaze. “If you need for me to not do this...” He tightened his hold on her waist, trailing off helplessly.

Tara sighed again, bringing a hand up to his face. Her thumb brushed across the crease between his brows and she smiled a little. “Let’s go to bed.” Her eyes searched his face. “And sleep. I want you to just... be there. Okay?”

He smiled back, leaning into her touch. “Yeah. That’s very okay.” He settled his hands on her hips, urging her back to her feet and pushed himself up to stand in front of her. Tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, he held out his hand. “C’mon. Let’s go.”


	5. Chapter 5

She slipped her fingers through his, and he started towards the stairs, turning his head to smile down at her, though his mind was racing. He’d been doing alright until the admission that she’d lain awake listening to him; that, plus the memories of the night in LA, had brought his desire raging back to life. Once they reached her room, he turned to face her. “You wanna go first?” he asked, inclining his head towards the bathroom.

“Since when do we take turns?” she teased, elbowing him gently in the ribs before making her way across the room, pausing in front of the fireplace. “Though... I should probably build the fire back up so why don’t you go on.”

He chuckled awkwardly, running his fingers through the stubble on his jaw, before backing towards the bathroom. “We don’t... but if you just wanna sleep, I should probably take a minute to cool off.”

Tara shook her head, amused, then crouched in front of the fireplace, glancing back at him over her shoulder. “Not sure that’s a long term solution, but if you must...”

He turned, flipping on the switch and pushed the door shut behind him, closing his eyes as he leaned back against the wood. _No shit, it isn’t,_ he thought, blowing out a sharp breath through pursed lips and headed over to the sink. He turned on the tap, cupping the cold water into his hands and splashing it onto his face, before bracing his palms on the sink and letting his head hang forward as he mentally bolstered himself. When he looked up, he grimaced at his reflection, and reached for his toothbrush. The gurgle of the running water triggered a faint niggle in his bladder and he glanced at the toilet, before rolling his eyes, his mouth full of toothpaste.

_Nope. Not happening like this._

He sighed, frustrated, and spat into the sink, before setting down his rinsed brush and turning off the tap. He looked down at himself, knowing that the evidence of his arousal would be blatantly obvious the moment he began to undress and for a moment he considered just dealing with it himself. He blew out a breath, shaking his head at himself. He’d gotten off more times in the previous twenty four hours than he had in the last week and yet here he was again, considering trying to silently jerk off with Tara in the next room, only this time he _wasn’t_ under the influence of alcohol. Before he could give into temptation, he pulled open the door, crossing over to drop down onto the bed on his front. “Your turn,” he told her, his words muffled by the comforter.

“Yep,” Tara acknowledged, closing the grate to the fire before dusting her hands on her yoga pants and getting to her feet. She gave him a brief glance, her brow furrowing slightly as she moved toward the bathroom. She started to speak but thought better of it, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind her.

He rolled over, and got to his feet, turning the lamp beside the bed on low and returned to the doorway to switch out the main light. As he made his way back towards the bed, he pulled his sweater over his head and draped it over the end of the chest at the foot of the bed, before unfastening his jeans and shucking them off. His socks followed, one at a time and he gathered them into his hands before dropping them all on top of his sweater in a messy pile.  He shivered a little in the cool air, now in just his t-shirt and boxer briefs, as he flipped back the covers and climbed into bed. He let his arm fall over his face as he waited for her to return and tried to ignore the need aching in his belly, the throb of his erection stretching the soft jersey knit cotton of his shorts.

Tara came out a few minutes later, changed into a looser pair of pajama pants and a tank top, her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, her face pink from being washed and moisturized. She looked exactly as she usually would, even though she’d fought herself over whether or not to make more of an effort - put on an _actual_ nightgown for once, maybe. But she’d chastised herself and moved on, finishing her nighttime routine and turning off the light before heading back into the bedroom.

She climbed onto her side of the bed, shuffling her feet under the covers before scooting down and turning onto her side, propping her head in one hand as she faced him. “That bad, huh?”

He laughed wryly, and lifted his arm to look at her. “Depends how you define bad. Or no.” He shook his head. “Ignore that. I’m alright, honestly.” He threw her a small smile, turning onto his side to face her as he tucked his hand beneath the pillow. “How is it you look exactly the same way as you have at bedtime for the last fifteen years, only now my brain can’t get past how you look good enough to eat?” he asked quietly, and Tara chuckled, chewing the corner of her lip as she looked at him.

“Is it really the first time you’ve had that thought?” She quirked an eyebrow inquisitively, bending her knees and nudging them against his, her toes pressing onto the tops of his feet.

He suppressed a shiver as the brush of her skin against his sharpened the arousal inside him. “No... no, it’s not... but it _is_ the first time I’ve not been able to push it to the back of my mind, so that I can just hold you and go to sleep, like you asked me to.”

Tara’s eyes softened, her cheeks pinking up even more, and she let out a slow breath, bringing her free hand up from beneath the blanket to cup the side of his face, her fingers drifting lightly over the stubble darkening his jaw. “I can’t either, honestly... Stop thinkin’ about it... Stop _wanting_...”

His lashes fluttered, the crease between his eyes deepening as her touch sent pleasure arrowing into the pit of his abdomen and he tensed his thighs to stop himself from squirming. “Tara... _please_ ,” he pleaded, his voice rough, “This is... not helping...”

Her thumb brushed the corner of his mouth and the tip of her tongue slicked over her bottom lip. “Wasn’t tryin’ to help,” she murmured, her eyes intent as they fixed on his.

Sebastian shuddered, a soft moan on his lips and his hand lifted to cover hers, his fingers linking with hers. “You have any idea what you do to me? This is... this is insane, the way you affect me.”

“No more insane than how you affect me,” she breathed, her eyes heavy with want, and she squeezed his hand. “No way I could sleep right now, like this...”

The tip of his tongue pressed against the middle of his top lip, his breath becoming more shallow and his pupils, already wide in the dim light of the room, grew even larger. “Like what?” he breathed, searching her face.

She kept her eyes on his face, pulling his hand down beneath the covers, slipping under the loose waist of her pants and pressing it to the damp fabric between her thighs. Her eyelashes fluttered as she rocked her hips forward into his touch, her voice barely a whisper when she spoke. “Like this.”

He let out a ragged breath as she withdrew her hand, leaving him to press more firmly against her covered core, and the length of his middle finger settled into the valley between her folds. Even through the cotton of her panties, the swell of her clit nudged against the pad of his finger, and he ever-so-slowly curled that one digit, the others resting over the elastic running along either side. “Oh... I see what you mean,” he answered, low and quiet. “See... I have a... situation going on here too.”

“Yeah, I thought you might,” Tara managed, the insistent press of his finger over her clit urging her to move, and it took all of her willpower to keep still. “Guess we should do somethin’, huh? If we wanna get some sleep...”

He hummed, easing out from her pyjamas, and searched beneath the comforter until he brushed her wrist, his palm covering the back of her hand. “I guess we probably should,” he agreed, linking his fingers with hers as he brought them to his shorts and moulded them over the hard line of his cock, “We both remember how restless I get when I’m like this, right?”

Tara nodded, curving her fingers over him and squeezing gently. Her breath shook and she swallowed, bringing her face closer to his, her gaze drifting to his mouth. “Tell me what you want, Sebastian... Anything... Anything you want.”

His breath hitched, his hips pressing forward into her touch, and he leant into her, his forehead resting against hers, the tip of his nose brushing hers. “Oh God, babe... I can’t. I want everything with you. I wanna touch you, and taste you, and bury myself inside you until I can’t even breathe... I wanna watch you moving over me, and I want you arching under me. I wanna wake up curled around you and rock into you slow and lazy, and fall asleep tangled up in your arms exhausted from pinning you down and fucking you until we’re both panting and sated.” He let out a breathless chuckle, his cheeks colouring self-consciously, and he squeezed his eyes shut. “Wow... okay, that... was probably too much. I don’t... I don’t expect that. Literally just... this... your hand on me? That... that’d be _really_ fuckin’ nice. Just us lying here, exploring a little. If you wanna...”

Tara nodded, pushing up onto her hip, sliding her hand up to his stomach. “Lie back, then...um, but take this off.” She tugged at his t-shirt and lifted her brows, biting her lip as she watched him.

Sebastian blinked his eyes open, catching his cheek between his teeth and nodded. His hands fell to the hem of his shirt, and he rolled onto his back, wriggling it over his head, before letting it drop to the floor. He turned his head, searching her face. “You wanna... take this off too?” he asked softly, tugging lightly at the strap of her tank top. “Then maybe I can get my hands on you too...”

She chuckled, slightly breathless, moving to straddle his lap before lifting the top over her head and tossing it aside. She shivered a little at the heavy fall of her breasts as they were bared, her face flushing when she looked down to meet his gaze.

His brow creased, teeth worrying the inside of his lip as his eyes drifted over her body, and he flattened his palms over the sides of her waist. “Jesus... so fuckin’ beautiful.” His fingertips teased over the line of her ribs, attentive to every movement, every stutter in her breath or twitch of her expression as he followed the curve of bone to the centre of her torso. “So soft, and damn, curves for-fuckin’-ever... makes me wanna do _bad_ , bad things with you.”

Her hands slid along the length of his forearms and she leaned forward, bracing her palms by his shoulders to bring her face to his. “Like?” she breathed, nuzzling her nose along his jaw. “Tell me... I like it when you talk.”

A groan rumbled in Sebastian’s chest, and his hands clenched around her hips. “You do, huh? That’s... kinda lucky...” He laughed quietly, tilting his head to expose the line of his throat to her, her lips drifting under his jaw to his neck. “Because apparently I’m _really_ bad at keepin’ my mouth shut when someone’s makin’ me feel good...” His thumbs drew semi-circles over the front of her hip bone, dipping inside the band of her pants as Tara straightened to draw her hands back down his chest. She lifted an eyebrow and he gazed up at her from beneath his lashes. “And you make me feel fuckin’ fantastic. I’m not sure I should tell you the _really_ bad things though. Might send you running for the hills.”

Tara laughed softly, using a fingertip to trace the dip of muscle between his pecs, around and across the ridges of his abdomen. “Try me,” she murmured, flicking her eyes up to meet his again. “You might be surprised.”

His gaze fell to her fingers, watching as they wandered across his stomach, his muscles twitching as she wandered towards the sensitive skin low down beneath his navel. “Wanna rub myself all over you. Or for you to rub yourself all over me. Wanna bury my face in your neck or your hair and just grind against you, or have you sittin’ in my lap, or over my thigh, watchin’ you gettin’ yourself off like that,” he said quietly, flicking a cautious glance up to her face as a thread of nervousness wound in with the arousal swelling in his belly. “Definitely want you to do that thing again where you managed to get _all_ of my dick into your mouth because holy _fuck..._ Wanna pull you up over me and let you grind down on my mouth while I lick and suck you ‘til you come all over my face... How’m I doin’ so far?”

Her breathing had shallowed, each soft pant sounding through parted lips as she shifted herself slowly back until she was straddling his thighs, her fingertips tracing along the waist of his boxer briefs. “Good,” she breathed, chewing the inside of her cheek as she rocked her hips forward, the heat of her core sliding up over his cotton-covered cock. “Really good...”

“Oh _God,_ yes... just like that,” he gasped, his dick throbbing up away from his body, and his fingers tightened, his thumbs spanning over the front of her abdomen as he resisted the urge to hold her to him while he rutted up into her. “Loved it earlier when you got all feisty, that was so fuckin’ _hot_. I wanna go through your box of toys and try out every... single... thing on you, just to see you come apart for me. I wanna watch you touch yourself for me, properly this time, not just the little glimpses from that night in LA...”

“You’d rather that than bein’ inside me?” she asked quietly, her fingers wrapping around his wrists, thumbs stroking the heels of his palms as she guided them up to her breasts. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, undulating her hips to grind against him. “Now?”

He moaned, rocking his hips up into her, matching her movements as he captured her nipples, rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers, tugging as they stiffened with his attention and kneading the soft weight of her breasts against her chest. Tara gasped, her hair starting to escape from the knot, the strands draping over her shoulders as her head fell forward. She slid her hands back up his chest, mimicking his touch with her fingers on his nipples. A whine sounded in the back of his throat, and he pressed his head back into the pillow as pleasure arrowed straight to his cock. “God, babe, I’m happy with anything right now... As long as I have you touchin’ me, I’m beyond good... If that’s what you want, though, I’m not gonna say no,” he added with a breathless chuckle. “Just... _fuck_ , that’s _so_ , so good.”

She grinned, curling her fingers and raking her short nails over and around his dark areolae, then stilling her hips as she leaned down over him, replacing one hand with her mouth. She mirrored the movement of her fingers with her tongue, swirling around then flicking the taut bud. His back arched away from the bed, pressing his chest up against her lips and his hands slid over the delicate curve of her collarbones, across the side of her neck until his fingers tangled into her hair. “Oh God, _fuck_ , Tara, that’s...” His breath shuddered out from him, his hips shifting in a sinuous wave as heat flared beneath his skin. He drew his nails across her scalp, holding her to him as the ache in the pit of his pelvis swelled, the arousal ramping up with every brush over the engorged nubs. “So good, baby, so, so good, just like you, so good for me...”

She lifted her face, her eyes meeting his, her lips slick when she pressed forward and crushed them to his as she teased the seam of his mouth, sweeping inside when his lips parted for her. He groaned into her, sliding his tongue along hers, licking into her before letting her dive back in to explore his mouth again. He released his grip on her head, winding his arms around her back and pressing her body flush to his own. His knees bent and his heels dug into the mattress as he arched up into her, the hard line of his cock pressing against the soaked fabric covering her core. His fingers found the waistband of her pyjamas, dipping under them and catching the side of her panties, before he drew back from the kiss, panting for breath. “Need you. Need you now, baby... wanna feel you ‘round me, squeezin’ my cock as it slides inside you... need to feel you gettin’ tighter as you get close, before you come all over me... Please, sweetheart, lemme have you.”

Tara whimpered, her hands cupping his face as she kissed him again, harder and more desperate, huffing a hot breath into his mouth as they parted. “Already have me,” she managed, swallowing before her eyes met his. “Just gotta take me.”

Sebastian grunted, pushing into the bed and flipping them over, before nudging his knees between hers, his hands braced by her shoulders. “Get these off,” he ordered, pushing himself upright and gathering the sides of her pyjama bottoms again, working both them and her panties down over her hips. “Fuck, what you do to me... “

She lifted her legs so he could pull the pants off, her eyes never leaving his face as he tossed them to the floor and she sat up, hooking her fingers into the waistband of his boxer briefs, lifting her eyebrows in question.

“God, yes, do it,” he told her, watching as she peeled them down his thighs, her eyes fixed on his cock as it curled against his belly, the tip flushed and glistening with the clear fluid beading from the slit. Once his shorts gathered at his knees, he rocked back onto his heels wriggling them down to his ankles before dropping back over her and kicking them away. “See what you do to me? Make me so fuckin’ hard for you I’m achin’... where even though I’ve had you so many times already today, I still need to have you again.”

Tara didn’t speak, simply looked at him as she rested back on the pillows and slid her calf up along his thigh, hooking her heel behind his hip and urging him atop her. He caught his lip between his teeth, his brows drawing together as his eyes searched her face. The more he spoke the quieter she seemed to become; though her body language was urging him on, a tickle of concern lingered at the back of his brain, even as his hips settled between her thighs, his erection nestled between her folds. A shudder ran along his spine and his forehead dropped to rest against hers as he lowered himself onto his forearms, his thumbs grazing along the line of her jaw. “God, you feel so good already,” he breathed, nuzzling the side of his nose along hers, rolling his hips and gliding through her wetness, a taut hum of pleasure on his lips as the head of his cock bumped over the swollen nub of her clit.

She let out a shaky breath, her hips lifting to meet his, and she brought her hands to his sides, skimming them over his ribcage. “Used to wonder what you’d feel like inside me,” she admitted quietly, her mouth brushing over his cheek, “what you’d sound like...look like when you came.”

His eyes widened, his breath catching in his lungs and he lifted his head to look at her. “Oh _fuck,_ Tara...” The air wheezed from him, and he brought his lips back to hers in a frantic, clumsy kiss. Bringing a hand between them to guide himself to her entrance, he seated himself inside her completely in one long push, moaning at the perfect drag of her walls around him. Tara whined, her fingers curling into his sides and he drew back, his breath gusting across her lips. The sea blue of his eyes was almost invisible around the black of his pupils as he looked down at her, and the corner of his lips quirked up. “So how does reality match up to the fantasy?”

“I...” she began, licking her lips and dragging them through her teeth, her legs wrapping around his waist. Her face softened and she let out a breath, her walls clenching tighter around him as she spoke. “Never thought I wouldn’t want it to end.”

Sebastian huffed out a soft laugh. “Me either,” he chuckled, ghosting his lips against hers as he rocked forward, his eyes fluttering shut as pleasure flashed along his spine, his skin prickling with need as he moved over her. “Jesus, sweetheart, how can this feel so right?”

Tara shook her head, her hands curving up over his shoulder blades as she clung to him, lifting her knees higher to flank his ribs so that each thrust hit deeper until she could only gasp out his name. Tension pooled low in her belly, burning hot, and she started to whimper, begging him with whispered words. “Please, Sebastian, _please_... you feel so good, wanna come for you, _please_...”

A low groan rumbled up from deep in his chest, and his hips snapped harder, the coil of arousal wound around the base of his spine starting to fray, the heat creeping outward at her words. “Do it, baby, come for me. Wanna feel you you flutterin’ ‘round me...” he ground out, tipping his hips until the the head of his cock grazed over her walls just right and she mewled. “Thassit... Tha’s my girl.”

The pleasure was sharp, intense, the next thrust shattering the ball of heat inside her. She let out a guttural cry, shards of pleasure slicing into the throbbing need filling Sebastian’s belly as her nails dug into his skin. Her cunt spasmed and tightened around him, her body shaking loose as her climax overtook her. His hips stuttering, he whimpered as the clench of her muscles pulled him to the brink and he pressed his face into the crook of her neck, filling his lungs with the scent of her skin and holding his breath as he chased his own release.

“Fuck, yes, yes, _Tara!_ ” he gasped, high pitched and tremulous, his lips brushing her throat as the pleasure flared bright and hot, and rushed out from the pit of his pelvis. With a lewd moan and one last, solid shove of his hips, he drove himself deep, almost stilling as he pulsed within the snug clutch of her walls and emptied himself inside her. For a moment, the only sound was the rapid thump of his heart beating loud in his ears, his body bowed in a taut line over her. When the last waves of his orgasm petered out, he flopped down over her, his skin damp and his parted lips resting against the side of her neck as he caught his breath.

Tara held tight to him, her fingers drifting along the sides of his spine as she calmed her own breathing, the feeling of being surrounded by the scent and heat of him making her lightheaded. “Just feels right,” she murmured finally, nuzzling her cheek against his, her fingertips swirling in light circles over his hips. “Really, really right...”

Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut, his heart thudding against the inside of his chest. “Yeah,” he agreed breathlessly. “It really, really does.” A voice at the back of his mind suggested that he should probably be a little frightened by that realisation, but the warm afterglow, the gentle touch of her fingers on his skin, drove any concerns out of his thoughts. “Really like this, too.” he mumbled into her shoulder, arching his back into her hands. “S’nice... M’not squashing you, m’I?”

“Not yet,” she said, chuckling, her breath fanning cool over the side of his neck. “Kinda enjoying it, actually.”

He hummed, nuzzling his jaw against her neck and nudged his shoulder up into her fingers when they slowed to a halt. “Me too. Like when you lie on me too. S’comforting.”

Tara let out a soft sigh, her eyes closing and a few minutes had passed before she realized she’d nearly fallen asleep trying to formulate a response. She grinned against his shoulder, her palms flattening against his sides. “Gonna fall asleep like this...”

Sebastian made a drowsy, comfortable noise, rubbing the side of his nose along her neck before sighing. “Does that mean I hafta move now? ‘Cos I really don’t wanna...”

“Don’t want you to either, but... y’know...” She giggled softly, bringing her hands up to thread her fingers through his hair. “Probably should...”

He rested the side of his head against hers, enjoying the play of her fingers over his scalp, before lifting himself just far enough to meet her eyes, his own heavy lidded and blissed out. “Not making this easy, y’know... Y’keep _touching_ me. It’s addictive, but then again, you always could make me feel better with a hug or a touch. Okay...”  He blew out a reluctant breath, and braced his hands by her shoulders. “Moving now...”

He pushed himself upright, a shiver running along his spine as he immediately missed the warmth of her body, the comfort of her embrace, and he ran his hands over the side of her hips. “I’ll be right back... don’t move.” he said softly, before shuffling over to the edge of the bed and letting his feet drop to the floor. Goosebumps lifted on his skin as he headed for the bathroom, the air cool despite the fire burning in the grate, and he didn’t linger.

Tara sighed, her eyes closed as she listened to him, familiar sounds that seemed so much more intimate suddenly. The toilet flushed, the tap ran, and in a minute he was back, lifting a knee onto the bed, a warm, damp washcloth in his hand and a towel over his shoulder He tapped her thigh, waiting for her to shift her leg and gently wiped the stickiness from her skin, before patting her dry.

Her chest ached with his tenderness and she smiled warmly up at him as he dropped the cloth onto the towel, setting them both down onto the floor beside the bed. She scooted over a little when he turned, watching as Sebastian pulled the covers up to their waists and wriggled down into the pillows.

She hummed with pleasure, waiting until he’d settled in beside her, then curled up against his side, and he lifted an arm so she could rest her head between his shoulder and his chest.

“I can keep touchin’ you, even if you’re not on top of me,” Tara said quietly, her palm skimming over his abs and up his chest and he lifted his head to smile down at her.

“You’re too good to me,” he murmured, pressing a kiss into her hair before settling back, his eyes closing as her hands soothed him ever closer to sleep. “Don’t get mad at me if I fall asleep mid-sentence or something, though.”

“I won’t,” she replied with a soft chuckle, her fingers teasing the soft curls of hair in the center of his chest. “Promise... I’m almost there myself.”

For a minute, they lay in comfortable silence, his own fingers drifting along the top of her arm, and when he next spoke his voice was thick with sleep, his words beginning to blur together. “Love you, Tara. Whatever happens, always gonna love you. Y’know that, right?”

“Yeah,” she breathed, her eyelashes fluttering closed as the sound of his breathing, the slowing of his heartbeat beneath her cheek lulling her into a sleepy haze. “I’ll always love you, too.”

His arm tightened around her, and he reached out with the other hand fumbling for the lamp on the nightstand beside him. Even without the additional illumination, the fire threw enough light into the room that, when he forced his eyes to open for a moment, he could still make out her peaceful features. “Stay like this or sleepy spoons?”

“Like this,” she mumbled, turning her face to press a kiss to his chest, draping her arm over his midsection and squeezing. “Like listenin’ to your heartbeat. S’calming.”

“‘Kay... you can listen as long as you want,” he told her, linking his fingers together to lock his arms around her, his eyes already closed again. “G’night, sweetheart.” He didn’t hear if she replied, sleep claiming him almost immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that’s it for this part. We hope you enjoyed reading, and if you did, please consider subscribing [here](http://archiveofourown.org/series/618955). Thanks for all your kudos, bookmarks and comments! The next part will be out a lot quicker than this one. ;)

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please let us know - kudos and comments make us do a happy dance!
> 
> Feel free to come and visit up on Tumblr - [BuckysCurvyLover](http://buckyscurvylover.tumblr.com/) and [SebastianFloofyHair](http://sebastianfloofyhair.tumblr.com/) \- and share in the beauty that is Sebastian Stan, in all his incarnations!


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